


Latter Days

by enigmaticblue



Series: Now and Always [2]
Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-10
Updated: 2008-01-10
Packaged: 2017-10-10 00:33:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 98,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/93317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set post-Chosen. After the Slayers are activated, the balance between good and evil is disturbed, and the Scoobies are flung to the far corners of the world to respond to the crisis. In the midst of all of this, will they be able to keep their relationships strong? Or will they be divided by circumstances and torn apart by fate? Follows my short story Yesterday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

**“What a beautiful piece of heartache/This has all turned out to be/Lord knows we've learned the hard way/All about healthy apathy…There is a me you would not recognize, dear/Call it the shadow of myself/And if the music starts before I get there/Dance without me, you dance so gracefully/I really think I'll be okay/They've taken a toll, these latter days/Nothing like sleeping on a bed of nails/Nothing much here but our broken dream/Oh, but baby, if all else fails/Nothing is ever quite what it seems…” ~Over the Rhine, “Latter Days”**

Prologue

Jerry Van Peldt had been in the disaster relief business for years now. He’d caught the bug at nineteen, as a volunteer EMT working with the Red Cross. Since then, he’d seen floods, fires, earthquakes, a couple of war zones, and even a terrorist attack or two.

He’d never seen anything like the Sunnydale crater, however. Or “the Crater” as they were all calling it. No one had ever seen anything quite like it, and they had all braced for the worst, ready to find hundreds of bodies buried in the ash and rubble.

So far he’d found a grand total of three, and he’d been working the site for four weeks now.

Jerry had heard through the grapevine that they were planning on shutting the recovery operation down soon. There was no point on wasting resources when there were no bodies to find, and very little in the way of artifacts. The word on the street—or in the Crater—was that the good people of Sunnydale had known that something bad was coming and had skedaddled with everything and anything they could carry.

Until they gave the word, however, Jerry would be working. He had a list of family heirlooms and other articles that people had requested to have returned should the disaster workers find them.

That was the best thing about his job—returning something precious to the person who had lost it. Sometimes it was a body, and the ability to lay their worry to rest, other times it was a live pet, or another item that couldn’t be replaced with money.

“Hey, Jerry!”

Jerry sighed. He knew that voice all too well. The only reason he was able to maintain his patience with Stuart is because he remembered his own enthusiasm for the job when he’d just been starting out. Still, the young man was trying at best. “What is it, Stu?”

“Is this on the list?”

The poor kid had been trying for days to find something—anything—of any value at all in the Crater, only to be told each time that it was nothing but junk. This time, however, Jerry recognized the amulet from its description on the lost and found list. Someone was very interested in getting the thing back, given that instructions had been given to every worker there that they were to keep a sharp eye out for it.

The amulet itself was blackened with soot and grime, and it looked as though it had been battered almost to oblivion. Still, someone wanted it, and that was good enough for Jerry. “Yeah, it’s on the list, kid.”

Stuart’s face creased with a big, goofy grin. “Great! I didn’t think I’d find anything before we got the word that the site was being closed.”

“You know when that’s going to be?”

“A couple of weeks at the most,” Stuart replied. He was well known for being something of a gossipmonger, and often had information before anyone else did. “I heard some of the bosses talking. They said it was really weird that nearly everybody got out in time, and that there’s no reason to stay when there aren’t any bodies to recover.”

Jerry didn’t know if he bought that. It was likely that there were still bodies remaining in the rubble, but there was only so much they could do. It was probably time to pack it in. “Yeah, I can see that,” was all he said. “I’ll send this off to the owners.”

“Cool,” Stuart replied. “Thanks, Jerry!”

Jerry sighed, beginning to flip through the list of people who had put in requests for items that might be found. He wished he still had that kind of energy.

The pages of the notebook seemed to flip almost of their own accord, and he saw the name he’d been looking for. “Willow Rosenberg,” Jerry murmured. “Rio de Janeiro. Lucky girl. I wonder how she managed that.”

It didn’t take long to fill out the necessary paperwork, address the padded envelope, and put it in the mail truck to be sent out the next day.

At no point did Jerry wonder about his compulsion to get it in the mail immediately, nor did he question how easy it was to get through the paperwork. Normally, a request like that took weeks to process; this one took hours.

Then again, Jerry didn’t really believe in magic, so maybe that was for the best.

**Chapter 1: Rio de Janeiro, Brazil**

“…it’s been hot here, but I guess that’s only to be expected. Kennedy and I are still trying to track down the Slayers in the area. We’ve had some problems finding them, but I guess we knew that might happen. I’ll let you know when we’ve had more luck…” ~Excerpt from an email from Willow Rosenberg to Buffy Summers

“Kennedy, did you get the mail?” Willow called without looking up from the spell book. She’d been studying almost non-stop since leaving Sunnydale, trying to find out exactly what she’d unleashed by activating all the potential Slayers. No one knew what the consequences might be, but she was certain that they would not be pleasant.

She hadn’t known that resurrecting Buffy would allow the First Evil to nearly extinguish the Slayer line and end the world, but unlike that spell, Willow knew that they hadn’t had a choice this time.

When her girlfriend didn’t respond, Willow sighed. Kennedy frequently commented on how much time Willow spend with the books these days, rather than with her. She had tried to explain to her that this was how the downtime worked for her, as a witch. During an apocalypse, she was generally involved in the action, but afterwards she wanted to be prepared for the next big event, which she had no doubt was coming.

“Kennedy?” Willow did a quick sweep of the apartment, realizing that her girlfriend had gone out without letting her know. Grumbling a bit, she went out to get the mail.

There wasn’t much there—a catalog for a magic supply store that she’d requested, a bill, and a small, padded envelope. She hadn’t expected much, since she communicated with the others online or on the phone for the most part.

She put the catalog on her desk and made a mental note to flip through it later; there were a few items that she was running out of and would need soon. She opened and filed the bill to be paid later, and then she opened the package.

Willow recognized the amulet immediately. She’d put a lot of work into making sure that if it was found it would get back to her, rather than landing in the wrong hands. There was no telling whether any power remained in it, or if it could be used again. They still didn’t know _how_ it had worked in the first place, and she was more than a little curious. If they ever needed something like it again, she wanted to be able to duplicate its powers, preferably without burning up the wearer.

One of the metal prongs holding the stone was loose, and another had been torn away completely, leaving a sharp edge that sliced her finger. Willow yelped and dropped the amulet to the floor.

Before she could bend to pick it up, it began spinning, then levitating. She cast the shielding spell automatically for her own protection, watching it steadily with a heady mixture of fascination and fear.

The spinning amulet created a vortex, and there came a howl that quickly increased in volume. She could have sworn that she recognized the voice, but— “It’s impossible,” she muttered.

The impossible had become commonplace, it seemed, because her initial supposition was correct; where there had only been a spinning amulet a moment before, now Spike crouched in the middle of her living room—naked and trembling.

Kennedy came bursting through the front door a split second later, letting the late afternoon sun blaze across the floor and Spike’s bare skin, causing him to cry out and scramble away. The Slayer had a stake in hand and looked ready to use it. Willow didn’t know if she just hadn’t recognized Spike, or if she didn’t care, but she acted swiftly. With one gesture, she froze Kennedy in place, and with another she slammed the front door shut.

She then snagged the blanket off the back of the couch and threw it over him. “I’m sorry!” she said quickly. “I’m really, really sorry. I had no idea you were going to come out of that thing.”

Spike blinked, staring at her. “Red?”

“That’s right. It’s okay, I promise. It’s just—crazy.” That was an understatement. To think she’d been getting a little bored recently. “Here. Sit down.” Willow nudged him towards the couch, thankful that Spike seemed aware enough to wrap the blanket fully around him.

“What’s Kennedy doin’?” he asked, sounding a little bewildered.

Willow placed herself between the Slayer and her unexpected guest. “She was trying to stake you. Hang on while I take care of this.” She spoke the word to release her girlfriend, ready to cast the same spell again if it looked Kennedy made another attempt.

“What did you just do?” Kennedy demanded as soon as she could move. “And what is _he_ doing here?”

“I made sure you couldn’t stake him,” Willow replied, maintaining her calm with some effort. “And Spike’s here because the amulet spit him out.”

“He’s evil.”

Willow was fairly certain that he wasn’t. She’d known Spike back when he _was_ evil, and he wasn’t acting like that at all. “I don’t think he is.”

“Then what is he doing back?” Kennedy demanded. “He’s supposed to be dead. What if he’s the First Evil?”

There was only one way to be certain of that, and Willow put her hand on his bare shoulder to prove both that he _wasn’t_ dead—or dead-er—and that he wasn’t the First. “He’s corporeal, Ken. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” she snapped. “We’re supposed to be fighting vampires, not babysitting them again.” With that, she whirled and stomped out of their apartment.

Willow knew that her anger had as much to do with the fact that she had used magic against her, as it did with Spike sitting on their couch. Kennedy might be able to accept magic as a tool for fighting evil, but she didn’t like it.

She sat down next to Spike rather gingerly. “Are you okay?”

“Where’s Buffy?” he asked urgently. “Did she make it out?”

“She’s fine,” Willow soothed. “She’s in England.”

“England?” Spike echoed, looking around him, alarmed. “Wait. Where are we? An’ how did I get here? I’m not—I was dead, wasn’t I? Is this—”

“We’re in Brazil.” Willow interrupted him before he could become even more panicked. “In Rio, to be precise. Kennedy and I are trying to locate Slayers in the area. You know that the activation spell worked, right?”

The question seemed to settle him, and he nodded. “Yeah. I remember that.”

“Okay, good.” Willow gave a sigh of relief. “Kennedy and I came to Brazil, to South America. Faith and Robin stayed in the U.S. Buffy went with Giles to England, and Xander went to Africa.”

Spike frowned. “You’re missin’ a couple of continents.”

Willow smiled, realizing with relief that whatever the amulet had done to him, he still had all his faculties. “Giles knew of a couple of Watchers who escaped the destruction of Council headquarters. One of them is from Australia, and she’s taking a couple Slayers with her; another spent a lot of time in Southeast Asia, and he’s meeting one of the Slayers who survived the Bringers.”

“How many Slayers did we lose in the crater?” Spike asked.

“About a half dozen.” She sighed. “We lost Amanda and Chao-Ahn, and a few others.” She paused. “And we lost Anya.”

Willow could see him swallow hard. “Anya, huh?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, shaking off her concern. “S’pose that covers the bases,” he allowed, then looked down. “Think I could get some clothes?”

She flushed. “Yes! Well, no, actually—” Willow stopped and took a deep breath; she was still flustered by his unexpected appearance, not to mention his lack of clothing. Kennedy’s departure wasn’t a surprise, so that didn’t bother her much. “All the clothing we have was what we bought since Sunnydale,” she said. “So we probably don’t have anything that will fit.”

Spike looked uncomfortable. “Right.”

“I have a robe,” she offered. “It’s purple.”

He let out a deeply put-upon sigh. “Better that than nothing.”

“I can run out and get something for you,” she said. “You’re going to need blood soon anyway, right?”

“I could eat.” Spike frowned. “How long has it been?”

“Six weeks, give or take a few days.” She stood abruptly. “I’ll pick up a few things for you, and then we can call Buffy.”

His eyes were shadowed. “Yeah. Probably better do that.”

Willow guessed at the reason for his obvious reluctance; Buffy had said that she’d waited too long to tell him how she felt. “She’s been mourning you, Spike.” She didn’t wait for his reply. “I’ll grab that robe, and then the rest of the stuff. Are you going to be okay here by yourself?”

“I’m a big vamp, Red,” Spike replied, but the humor didn’t quite reach his eyes.

She nodded. “If Kennedy comes back—”

“I’ll defend myself, and I’ll try not to hurt her.”

That was all she could ask.

~~~~~

As far as Spike knew, he’d been in the Hellmouth mere moments before ending up in Willow’s living room. It was one reason that he was having trouble processing what was going on. Clearly, whatever had created the amulet had meant for the user to be trapped inside, but to what purpose, Spike couldn’t say.

The idea that he could have wound up almost anywhere, depending on who had obtained the amulet, was a frightening one. He’d been completely disoriented and vulnerable for the first few moments after being disgorged.

Hell, he was still vulnerable; Spike wanted his duster back, but he had a feeling that unlike the rest of him, his clothing had been burned away by the amulet’s energy.

So, here he was in South America again, in Willow’s living room, wearing a fuzzy purple bathrobe. He wasn’t sure how his life could get much worse.

The front door opened with a bang and he stood to face Kennedy as she entered. She looked him up and down, clearly unimpressed by his attire. “Are you still here?”

He waved at the sunlight filtering through the open door; Spike made sure that he was well out of danger this time. “It’s still a bit too bright out there for me.”

“You know, a lot of good people died in the Hellmouth,” Kennedy said.

“Yeah.”

“You should have stayed that way.”

“Probably.” Spike wasn’t about to argue with her. She was looking for a fight, and he didn’t want to give her one. The chance of one of them getting hurt or killed was too great.

She snorted with disgust. “I’m going to get my stuff.”

Spike thought about asking her where she was planning to go, but decided that he didn’t care. He sat back down on the couch, watching as she went from room to room with a duffel bag, shoving various items inside.

Kennedy paused at the front door. “Tell Willow I’ll call her later.”

Spike leaned back into the couch cushions, a little more relaxed now that she was gone and hadn’t tried to stake him. He rubbed his eyes wearily. Whatever Willow said, he had a hard time believing that Buffy’s words had been real, that it was real love, and he didn’t want her trying to fake it because she felt trapped with his return.

The door opened slowly. “Spike?”

“Yeah?”

“Did Kennedy come back?” the witch asked, slipping inside with several sacks.

“Came and went. Said I should have stayed dead.”

She frowned, looking severe. “Well, she was wrong.”

“She said she’d call later.”

Willow sighed. “Yeah, I figured she would. We’re going to break up.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She smiled a little sadly. “It’s been a long time coming.” Willow put one of the bags into his lap. “I hope they fit. I’ll heat up your blood.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he objected.

She shook her head. “You died to save the world, Spike. I think I can do that much at least.”

Those words shook him, and he wondered at the sentiment. His death seemed to have won his acceptance by Buffy’s friends; perhaps he shouldn’t have been surprised, but it still felt wrong. Spike had worn the amulet; that was all. He hadn’t fought a great battle, or defeated a demonic army—not really.

There was a saying about gift horses that he was reminded of, however, and so he got dressed and tried to put it out of his mind. The clothes were a little bigger than he tended to favor, but Willow had picked up a belt, so he didn’t have to worry about his pants ending up around his ankles. She’d also gone for black again, which he appreciated. She’d even found a pair of boots in his size.

“You’re looking pretty good for a dead guy,” she said, handing him a warm mug. “I got more if you’re still hungry.”

“Ta.” He took a sip and watched as Willow picked up the phone and hit speed dial, then braced himself for the worst.

Willow winced as Giles’ voice came on the line—Spike had no trouble hearing both sides of the conversation. “Willow? Is something wrong?”

“Not exactly,” she replied. “I need to talk to Buffy, Giles.”

“Do you know what time it is?” he asked. “She’s in bed, and it’s been a long week for her. We’ve had—”

“I know that.” She cut him off. “But it’s _really_ important. I wouldn’t have called otherwise.”

There was a pause that Spike could feel in his bones, then the Watcher sighed. “Just a moment.” Another long silence followed, and he gulped the rest of his blood nervously, going over to rinse it out in the sink. When he turned the water off, he could hear Buffy’s voice on the line.

“What is it, Will?”

“I received the amulet from the Sunnydale disaster relief team,” she said, clearly trying to ease Buffy into it. The other girl said nothing right away, and Willow continued. “It—Spike’s here, Buffy.”

“You’re lying. You have to be.” Her tone was flat, and Spike wondered at her reaction. Did she not want it to be true, or did it seem too good to be true?

“I’m not,” Willow assured her. “I wouldn’t do that to you, Buffy. You know I wouldn’t.” She held the phone out to Spike. “Here. Talk to her.”

Spike swallowed, taking the phone as though it would bite him at any moment. “Buffy?”

“Spike?”

“Yeah. It’s me.”

“It can’t be.” She muttered the words, as though talking to herself. “You died. I watched you start to burn. You—”

“I told you that you didn’t love me.” Spike knew Buffy well enough to know that she wouldn’t have told anyone about what she’d said at the end, or his reply. “An’ I thanked you for sayin’ it anyway.”

“Oh, God. Spike.”

She was crying; he could hear her tears, and there was nothing he could do except to clutch the phone more tightly and wish he were there with her. “Luv—”

“I meant it,” she insisted, before he could say anything. “I know I waited too long to say it, but I meant it. How soon—no, I can come there. Are you okay? What happened? Willow said she got the amulet; did that—”

Spike wished that he could cut her off with a kiss; a reunion like this shouldn’t happen over the phone. “Dunno what Red did to get me out of it, but I think I was in the amulet. One minute I’m burnin’ up from the inside out, an’ the next minute I’m in her living room.”

“But are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he assured her. “Bit shaken up, but I’m alright. You?”

“I’m good. Now.”

There was a pause, and Spike just listened to her breathing on the other end. He didn’t know what to say to her after everything that had happened. “You want to talk to Red?”

“Not really, but…” She sighed. “I have so much to tell you, but I think it can wait until I see you in person. I’ll talk to Giles. I’m not sure if it would be easier for you to come here, or me to go there.”

“Whatever you need from me, Buffy,” he promised, then added in a low tone, wishing he didn’t have an audience, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

When he handed the phone back to Willow, he felt almost as though he was floating. Buffy had meant those words she’d spoken in the Hellmouth; it hadn’t been a sop to a dying man. Spike only half-listened to the rest of the conversation as Willow finished the conversation with Buffy, then spoke to Giles again. She gave both of them the details of the afternoon, including Kennedy’s reaction and departure.

Spike couldn’t think of anything except for seeing Buffy again. He wasn’t sure he would have contacted her immediately had Willow not insisted, but he was now glad that she had.

~~~~~

Willow looked at the vampire on her couch; he was flipping channels idly, and she wondered whether now would be the time to ask for his help. They had just recently figured out that one of the new Slayers was a street kid, and although her strength and healing would certainly help her survive, Willow knew that time was against them.

It wouldn’t even have to be a demon that took her out; it could be a human.

“Spit it out, Red.”

She started, not having realized that he knew she was standing there, or that she’d been wanting to say something. “We have a problem, Spike.”

He glanced up at her, then turned the television off. “Alright. What is it?”

“We activated all those Slayers, but we’re having a hard time finding them,” she admitted. “It’s easier in some areas, but it’s been an issue here.”

“How’s that?”

“One girl was already married, and she didn’t want to leave her husband. Another died before we could get to her; we’re still not sure what happened there. A third is in a remote area, and we haven’t been able to get to her yet.” Willow shook her head. “The coven is estimating that there are as many as two thousand active Slayers, Spike. We don’t have the resources to train all of them.”

His eyes were wary. “I’m not sure what that has to do with me.”

“You’re better qualified than most of us to train Slayers.” Her words were deliberately blunt. Willow knew that if Spike believed that he was needed, he’d be more willing to help.

Spike shook his head. “Training the potentials on the Hellmouth was a one-time deal, Red. I’m not the guy you need.”

“Why not?” she demanded. “Because you’re a vampire? We both know that’s a load of bullshit. As far as I’m concerned, that makes you _more_ qualified.”

He seemed taken aback by her vehemence. “Red—”

“You won’t hold back with them,” she pressed. “And your soul is anchored. There’s no good reason for it not to work.”

A scarred eyebrow rose. “Really? I think Rupert might have somethin’ to say about it. He’s not my biggest fan.”

She snorted. “Please. It’s a little hard for Giles to disapprove of somebody who willingly sacrificed himself.”

Willow knew she was winning when he slowly nodded. “S’pose so. What do you want me to do?”

“We managed to track down another Slayer here in Rio,” Willow explained. “The problem is that she’s a street kid, and Kennedy and I don’t speak Portuguese. If the circumstances were different, I’d just get an interpreter, but I think it would be easier if you came along.”

Spike’s expression was incredulous. “What makes you think I speak Portuguese?”

“Just a hunch. Can you?”

Reluctantly, he nodded. “Yeah, but I’m not fluent.”

“Well enough to get our point across?”

He was still hesitant, and Willow wondered why. Was it because he didn’t trust her, or did he suspect some sort of ulterior motive? She thought he understood that everything had changed; the world had been turned upside down while he had been locked away in that amulet. Before, there had been Watchers a-plenty and a dearth of Slayers. Now, they had the opposite problem, and it was becoming dire.

Willow’s greatest fear was that girls would die because of the spell she’d cast, that they wouldn’t get to the Slayers in time.

The potentials had been targets, and so would the Slayers be now.

Spike seemed to make his mind up suddenly, nodding and rising from the couch. “Yeah. I can do it. You know how to find her?”

Willow went to the chest of drawers she kept in the living room. The many small compartments were ideal for storing necessary magic supplies. She took the crystal the coven had finally perfected from one of them, holding it up. It pulsed with a faint light. “The coven has been working on locator crystals. They’re only good for close range, but once you get within ten miles or so, they’re great to have.”

He shrugged. “As long as you have what it takes. I’ll let you lead the way.”

~~~~~

Kennedy still hadn’t returned to the apartment by the time the sun had gone down, and Willow decided that it wasn’t necessary to wait for her. If her girlfriend wanted to throw a hissy fit, that wasn’t her problem.

Willow still had no idea what Kennedy’s problem with Spike was; he’d proven himself ten times over at this point.

The crystal was easy to use, but it didn’t give the best directions; the light grew brighter when they were going in the right direction, but it didn’t give any indication of what the right direction _was_. They wasted a lot of time wandering around, getting closer only by trial and error.

“This isn’t good, Red,” Spike muttered as they moved deeper into one of the areas of the city where she would have hesitated to go alone. She might be a powerful witch, but it was always safer to have someone there to watch your back.

“Tell me about it.” The crystal was glowing steadily now, more brightly with every step. It was the only reason she didn’t suggest turning around.

He shook his head. “No, I know this area. It’s controlled by one of the demon clans that live around here.”

“If they see us?”

“Let’s hope they don’t.”

“Why would a new Slayer be here?” Willow asked.

The planes of Spike’s face were sharp in the light from the crystal, sharper than usual. It caused his expression to look grimmer. “Not for a good reason.” Suddenly, they were plunged into darkness, and they both stopped, freezing. “What just happened?”

Willow swallowed. “She’s no longer in the area.”

“How could she disappear like that?”

“I don’t think she did.” Willow looked at him, feeling sick to her stomach. “I think she might have been killed. It’s the only reason I can think of that the crystal would go dark so suddenly.”

“Bloody hell.” He glanced around. “Find a hiding place for yourself, Red. I’m goin’ to look.”

“Be careful,” she whispered before she spoke the words that would make it a lot harder for anyone to see her. Spike would be able to find her, because he knew where to look, but the casual passer-by wouldn’t.

The seconds passed like hours while Willow fretted, wondering if she should have done something—if she _could_ have done something. They had known about the girl for two days, and the crystal had only arrived the day before. She and Kennedy had looked, but they hadn’t been able to get close.

Maybe they would have managed it, however, if they had only…

What?

“Let’s go.” Spike materialized beside her in the darkness.

“What happened?” she whispered.

“I’ll tell you when we’re out of here.”

They both moved as quietly as possible, and Willow tucked the now-dark crystal in her pocket. Spike led her unerringly through the streets and back to the front door of her flat. “What happened?” she repeated, as soon as they were inside.

“She’s dead, like you thought.”

“How do you know?” Willow demanded. “Did you see her?”

“Could smell her.” Spike’s voice was flat, and she had a hard time getting a read on him. “Slayer blood doesn’t smell like anything else. There’s somethin’ special about it.”

“What else did you find out?”

“Found out that there’s likely a price on every Slayer’s head. I overheard a couple of demons talkin’ over her body.”

For a moment, Willow thought about protesting the fact that he had simply left her there with the demons, but she knew that there hadn’t been much sense in revealing their location for a dead girl, even if she had been a Slayer. “What did they say?”

“Word’s out about the spell you cast. The demons know that a bunch of new girls were Chosen, an’ they know that they’re young and untrained for the most part. The ones I saw seemed to think that it was just good business to take them out now before they got trained.” Spike sighed. “Should have figured on that.”

The possibility hadn’t even crossed Willow’s mind, and she swallowed hard, thinking of all the implications. “How are we going to keep them safe?”

“We get to them first.” Spike pointed at her pocket.

She looked down, seeing the faint glow through the fabric. “Another one?”

“Guess so.” He glanced at the clock, even though she knew he probably had a very good idea of what time it was. “We’ve still got some night left to us. Might as well get started.”

Willow nodded and hoped that they reached _this_ Slayer in time.


	2. New Council Headquarters, Bath, England

**“…I couldn’t believe it when Willow told me, not until I heard his voice. I have no idea what would have happened if she hadn’t insisted on having the amulet sent to her. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal, but she was right. If anyone else had found it, Spike might have wound up completely under their power. Giles wants someone to talk to Angel about where he got it…” ~Excerpt from an email from Buffy Summers to Xander Harris**

“I’m very sorry, Buffy.”

She wanted to be angry with Giles, but she knew he was right. A situation like this _had_ to be dealt with immediately, before the artifact fell into the wrong hands. “It’s okay.”

It wasn’t—not remotely—but she had no choice. That seemed to still be the story of her life.

“I can call Willow tonight,” he offered. “If Spike is up to it, he could fly to meet you. I would feel better knowing that there’s someone there who can watch your back.”

Buffy was surprised by his suggestion, mostly because she hadn’t expected Giles to be quite so accepting of her determination to renew her relationship with Spike. “That would be great.”

“I do understand how important he is to you.” His voice was low, and she could sense his sincerity. “Spike is important to our efforts as well.”

She shook her head. “One of these days, Giles, I want a real vacation. No emergencies, no demons, no apocalypses.”

“I wish I could give that to you.” Giles clasped her shoulder briefly. “I’ll make the travel arrangements.”

Buffy sank down on her bed, putting her head in her hands. She was getting a chance to travel now, which she’d always wanted to do, but this wasn’t quite what she’d had in mind. A mysterious artifact that could bring about the next apocalypse if used for the wrong purposes had to retrieved.

She dragged her duffel bag from under her bed, mentally calculating how long it would take Spike to reach Osmotherley. Even if Giles reached him immediately, there would be travel arrangements to make, and he might not be able to leave right away. It was a long flight from Brazil to England, and then he would have to reach the village.

She’d be there in mere hours, and would probably have everything under control by then.

“Hey.”

Buffy glanced up from her packing to see Dawn standing in the doorway. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Giles said you were leaving pretty soon.”

“I have to.” She shoved a pair of stakes into the suitcase, then snagged a second pair of boots. “Big evil, blah, blah, blah. You know how it goes.”

“And you can’t fly to Brazil to see Spike.”

“Dawn—”

“It’s okay, Buffy.” She sat down on the bed. “Why don’t you tell Giles to have him come here? If you’re not back, he can meet you easily enough.”

She gave her sister a look. “I thought you hated him.”

“Hate is a really strong word.” At Buffy’s expression, Dawn sighed. “I don’t hate him. I just didn’t want to forgive him too easily. After he died—I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye.”

Buffy nodded, understanding immediately. Her sister wasn’t so different than she. “I get that.”

“Are you going to take anyone else with you?” Dawn asked.

She shook her head. “I don’t know. We’ll see what Giles says.”

“But you’ll be careful?” the younger girl pressed.

“I promise, Dawnie,” she replied.

~~~~~

Giles listened as the phone rang, wondering if Willow had had better luck contacting the Slayers in her corner of the world. None of them had known what the consequences of the activation spell would be, nor had they known how difficult it would be to find and recruit the girls.

The coven had been of tremendous help in finding ways to locate the new Slayers, but that only went so far. Not all the girls would care to engage in that sort of fight, and training them would take time—time they might not have.

“Hello?”

“Willow. Is Spike available?”

“Just a minute. We were out chasing down a Slayer all night, so he’s sleeping.”

“Did you find her?”

“Yes. Something else got her first, though.”

Giles heard the anguish in her voice. “I’m sorry, Willow.”

“We have some idea where a second is located, but we haven’t been able to make contact yet. I’ll send you my report when I finish it.” Her next words were brusque, a clear attempt to dismiss her regret at not being in time to save the girl. “I’ll put Spike on.”

There was a moment’s silence, and Spike’s gruff voice came on the line. “Yeah?”

“There’s been an emergency in northeastern England,” Giles said without preamble, trusting that Willow had told him who was on the phone. “Buffy is the closest, and the only one who is capable of handling this particular emergency.”

The bitterness in his voice was unmistakable. “So, she’s not coming. Is that what you’re tellin’ me?”

“I’m asking if you would like to join her,” Giles responded, trying to keep his voice even. Spike had good reason to distrust him, and so he couldn’t fault the vampire for his suspicion.

After a pause, Spike repeated, “Join her?”

“Yes. It might be best if you come here first. From what Willow said on the phone, you’ll need a kit, and I’m sending a couple of our more capable Slayers with Buffy.” When there was no immediate reply, Giles pressed his advantage. “I have no doubt that she will need your assistance, Spike.”

“Yeah, okay.” His words were abrupt, and he sounded very much like the vampire Giles had known in Sunnydale, years ago, when he had first agreed to help them on occasion, and for money. Spike’s reasons for agreeing were different this time, but Giles didn’t doubt his sincerity.

Giles let out a breath. “Good. Thank you, Spike. We’re going to need you.”

“What’s goin’ on, Watcher?” Spike asked, his voice sharpening.

He hesitated. “There’s some indication that the spell upset the balance.”

“You mean we’re goin’ to face the First Evil again?”

There was anger in his voice, and Giles understood why. Spike had sacrificed himself to take care of the First, and the idea that it might have been in vain would sting. “No, not the First. From what the coven tells me, it will be more like having multiple Hellmouths opening in the near future.”

“That’s not good news,” Spike said slowly. “And this thing you’re sendin’ Buffy off to face?”

Giles sighed. “There’s some indication that there’s an artifact of great power there, or perhaps a center of power. We need to be the ones in control of it.”

“I’ll go,” Spike said, “but Red is going to need help. She needs someone who can speak the language.”

“I’ve already made the arrangements,” Giles replied. “There’s a Watcher who speaks both Portuguese and Spanish. It’s likely that you’ll cross paths in the air. I’ll email the details to Willow today.”

“I thought you hated computers,” Spike observed wryly.

Giles laughed, a little ruefully. “It seems to be the easiest way of doing things, and Dawn has been a great help. We’ll see you soon, Spike.”

When the call had ended, he heaved a sigh of relief. Giles knew that Spike would help, and by requesting that he stop through Bath first, he would have the chance to make amends and obtain the information he had failed to get while in Sunnydale.

As the days passed, and he gathered every scrap of information he could, Giles was more and more certain that Spike might be essential.

~~~~~

Vi slung her bag over her shoulder. The Council Headquarters were a huge step up from the house on Revello Drive, as far as space and privacy—and available bathrooms—went. Her parents had been thrilled at the idea that she had an all-expenses paid scholarship to an exclusive private school in England.

She had tried to hint at the truth, but they were really good at doing denial; Buffy had said that her mom had done the same thing.

“I don’t see why I can’t go,” Rose pouted. She didn’t look much like a Slayer, not that most of them did. She was one of the few who had known she was a potential and had been trained since early childhood in the event that she was Chosen. Now that she had been, she was all ready to throw herself into the fray.

She was also twelve, which Giles had deemed a little young. Her Watcher may have successfully hidden her from the Bringers, but that wouldn’t do Rose much good if she was killed in the first fight due to her youth and size.

“You’ve got school,” Vi pointed out ruthlessly. “And training. And a lot more growing to do.”

Rose snorted. “Please. I have more training than most of the Slayers out there.”

“And they have six inches and fifty pounds on you, kid.” Vi smiled encouragingly. “Trust me. There will be plenty of apocalypses to go around.”

The little girl sighed. “I guess. It’s just that Miss Ryan still thinks that I’m going to be killed at any moment.”

“Paranoia keeps you alive,” Vi replied wisely, deciding not to point out that her Watcher was still right. It might be less likely, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t happen. There were still plenty of enemies out there, and plenty of evil to fight.

Buffy stuck her head in the room. “You ready to go?”

“All packed,” Vi assured her.

“Hey, Buffy,” Rose said a little breathlessly. It was clear to everyone that most of the younger Slayers—the few that there were—worshipped the oldest living Slayer. Vi had to give Buffy credit; in the midst of all the moving, the crises, her grief, everything—she was trying.

“Hey, Rose.” Buffy sounded distracted, but she mustered up a smile. “Vi?”

“Right behind you.”

Vi had heard the news, of course; there weren’t a lot of secrets at Council HQ. When phones rang in the middle of the night, big things were going on, and it hadn’t been long before everyone had heard that Spike was back from the dead. Then came the news of trouble up north, and that Buffy was the one picked to take care of it.

She wasn’t surprised that the other Slayer looked a little pissed off.

“Audra is going, too,” Buffy told her in a low voice. “She’s pretty well trained.”

“Is Spike coming?”

“When he can.” Buffy’s mouth twisted. “Giles thinks that it will be better if he comes through here first, just in case we wrap things up before he arrives.”

“Are you okay?”

Buffy shook her head. “I would have liked a little more time.”

Vi knew what she meant. Only a week after Sunnydale had disappeared into a crater, and they already had their first emergency on the Cleveland Hellmouth. Since then, it had been one thing after another between locating Slayers, trying to get the new Council set up, and dealing with demonic interference. From what Vi had picked up on, it appeared that the entire demon world knew that there had been a sudden increase in the Slayer population, and they had declared open season.

The untrained Slayers were in worse danger than they had been before being Chosen, and they couldn’t always find them fast enough.

Audra was waiting by the front door, her bag at her feet. She was another potential who had survived the Bringers, although her Watcher hadn’t. Vi wasn’t sure what to think of her; she seemed a little too robotic.

Giles entered the foyer, looking a little harried. “The driver has your tickets and itinerary,” he said. “I’ll send Spike along as soon as I can, Buffy. Call me if you have any trouble.”

“Do we know what we’re looking for?” Vi asked. “Other than something powerful?”

“The coven couldn’t see clearly enough,” Giles responded. “As soon as we know more, I’ll call.”

Buffy looked around. “Where’s Dawn?”

“Working on making travel arrangements on that infernal machine,” Giles replied.

Vi hid a grin. Giles’ dislike for computers was legendary, although he was getting better.

“I guess we have everything then.” Buffy sounded tired already, and Vi had to wonder how they were going to fare in Osmotherley.

~~~~~

Dawn printed off a copy of the itinerary and sent the information to Willow. Transportation for Spike had been arranged, as well as arrangements for the Watcher Giles had decided was best suited to help Willow.

When the First had blown up Council headquarters, it had killed most of the experienced Watchers, the ones who had field experience and specialized knowledge. Only a handful had survived, and most of them had gone to ground. They were slowly making contact, but there were still too few.

The First had left the Watcher’s Academy untouched, however, apparently not seeing it as a threat. That had been handy, since it was the only Council-owned property that could house all of them. Most of the students there had lost parents or other family members, however, and some were as young as Rose. A few—too few—were in their final year and were ready and willing to go into the field. As for the rest—

Dawn knew that Giles was still struggling to decide what to do with the rest of them.

“My dear girl! There you are.”

She heaved a deep sigh. The dearth of Watchers meant that they actually needed Andrew. She had a soft spot for the big dork, but he could be a little much at times. “Hi, Andrew.”

“Is it true? Has Spike returned from beyond the grave?” Andrew asked, still trying to sound as British as possible. He’d really gotten into his new role as Watcher.

“Not quite,” Dawn replied. “From what Giles said, he was never in the grave; he was just in the amulet.”

Andrew’s eyes widened with sheer delight. “He’s like Gandalf, the white wizard, returning to set things right!”

She didn’t reply, not wanting to put a damper on his joy. Dawn had long since given up hope that any one person could set things right. “Something like that.”

There was a brief knock on the study door, and a woman entered. “Is Mr. Giles here?”

“I don’t know where he is,” Dawn replied, recognizing Zoë Michelson immediately. “I have your travel schedule ready, though.”

“Thank you,” she replied, taking the proffered print out from Dawn. “I have to admit that I never thought I’d be going to Brazil.”

Andrew looked at her longingly. “I would love to see the rainforest.”

“You don’t speak Portuguese or Spanish,” Dawn reminded him repressively. “You don’t mind going, do you?”

Zoë shook her head. “Not at all, but I rather thought I’d be stuck doing research forever.”

Dawn knew that the young Watcher was referring to her reputation for sheer clumsiness and inability to use weapons effectively. She would have a tough time training Slayers, but Willow needed her skills with languages and magic. They would have to find a trainer later.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Dawn encouraged. “Willow really needs an interpreter, and you’re the one most fluent.”

Zoë sighed. “I just wish that I was a little better with weapons.”

Giles’ entry spared her having to come up with a response. “Zoë, there you are. Did you get your itinerary from Dawn?”

“Are you sure I should be the one to go?” she asked. “I want to, it’s just that—”

“You’ll be just fine, my dear,” Giles said, cutting her off. “I think you’ll be surprised at how well you do out in the field.”

The young woman didn’t appear convinced. “If you’re certain.”

“More than. You’d best pack. Andrew, if you’ll run an errand for me, I would appreciate it.”

Andrew straightened. “Of course!”

Giles handed him a list. “We need groceries.”

Dawn was impressed when he didn’t even argue. “I will return swiftly.”

The head Watcher waited until both Zoë and Andrew were out of the room before muttering, “Please don’t.”

Dawn smirked, then looked at him. “How bad is this thing going to be, Giles?”

“I wish I could tell you, Dawn.” He sighed. “It might not be so bad.”

She shook her head. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I really don’t know.” He collapsed into his chair. “When we activated the Slayers, it began a chain reaction, or that’s what it seems to have done. Demonic activity has increased all over the world, the Slayers are targets, and we do not have enough trained personnel to deal with it all.”

Dawn swallowed the fear that rose up. It was almost like dealing with the First Evil all over again, only worse. At least that apocalypse had been centered in Sunnydale. They were spread too thin as it was, and it was only getting worse.

“What are we going to do with all the Slayers?” she asked.

He spoke with his eyes still closed. “Many of the girls will likely be too young to be out in the field, and they probably ought to be brought to a centralized location. The only problem is that we’re facing a shortage of trainers and Watchers.”

“And the older ones?”

“Probably should be sent out in the field.” His eyes opened. “Forgive me, Dawn. I shouldn’t be burdening you with this.”

“It’s not a burden,” she hastened to assure him. Dawn loved that Giles, and many of the others, were treating her like an adult. She was old enough to be a real help now, and she had more experience than most.

He smiled a little wryly. “I’m certain that your sister would not agree with me, but as she’s not here, we won’t tell her.”

“Sounds good to me,” Dawn replied.

“How do you feel about Spike being back?” Giles asked.

She shrugged. “I guess it will give me a chance to make things right.”

“Indeed.” Giles rose from his chair. “I have to make some phone calls. There will be more people arriving today.”

“More Watchers?” Dawn asked.

“And a few Slayers,” he confirmed. “Word has spread that the new Council is located here. With any luck, we will have known locations for all of those remaining within the next week.”

Dawn looked over her shoulder at the map on the wall with the brightly colored push pins that marked the locations of Slayers, Watchers, and allies. Dawn couldn’t help think that there were too few to deal with the storm she knew was coming.


	3. Pretoria, South Africa

**“…We’re in winter now, but it’s not that cold. I heard about the Slayer you lost. I’m sorry. It’s been hard here, too. Girls marry young, and a lot of them have had some pretty traumatic experiences. Corey has been great. I couldn’t have done half of what we’ve accomplished here without her…” ~Excerpt from an email from Xander Harris to Willow Rosenberg**

Xander eyed the new doorframe with his good eye, trying to decide whether or not it was just right. It turned out that his skills as a carpenter were in high demand, particularly when it came to renovating the building they’d found to serve as the new school and headquarters in Africa. The Council had already had a small outpost in Pretoria, and one of the professors at the university had been a part of the Watcher’s Council a number of years before. He was too infirm to go out into the field, but he was an invaluable source of information.

“It looks good,” Corey said from behind him, her accent pleasant to his ears. “If we can get the school ready this week, we should be able to begin filling the rooms.”

“‘If you build it, they will come?’” he asked.

“Is that a movie quote?” she asked, used to his random pop culture references by now.

Xander shrugged. “Yeah. It’s not important. I’m not sure that we’ll have the same kind of luck getting people to come.”

“Three girls isn’t bad,” Corey encouraged him.

“And the other two?” he asked. “What’s going to happen to them?”

For all its reputation as “the Dark Continent,” Xander hadn’t seen the demon activity that Giles reported increasing around the globe. Of course, he didn’t think much of its bad reputation; what he’d seen of Africa was beautiful.

Corey shook her head in response to his question. “It’s impossible to know, Xander, but they do know that they have a place to go if they wish it.”

One of the girls had already been married with a child, and she refused to leave either her husband or her baby. Xander understood that, but she was only fifteen. The second was the sole caretaker for her mother, who had AIDS, as did the girl.

Africa was a land of beauty, but also heartbreak.

Nàtili ran up to him, chattering in Afrikaans, then switching to heavily accented English. “Come look, Xander!”

Nàtili had been the only girl who had come with them immediately. Both of her parents were dead, and she had been alone, trying to take care of herself. She was thirteen and thrilled to be given the opportunity to go to school. Her new-found strength meant that she wouldn’t be victimized, as so many girls were.

The school was on the very edge of town, on a piece of property that had belonged to the Council for decades, since South Africa had been a colony. On the plot that would eventually be a vegetable garden lay a large, gray-green demon that Xander didn’t recognize. From behind them, Corey let out a curse.

“Do you know what it is?” he asked her.

“Yes. It is a demon native to this area. They are assassins.” Corey looked down at Nàtili. “How did this get here?”

The girl smiled proudly. “It came after me, but I swung the hoe and killed it. I did well?”

“You did great,” Xander said, seeing the hoe blade deeply embedded in the demon’s throat. “You’ll be ready to go hunting in no time.”

The girl danced a little bit, then said something to Corey in Afrikaans. When she ran off, Xander looked over at the woman. “What did she say?”

“She said that we need water, and she was going to fetch it.” She looked behind them at the wood framed building. “I will be grateful when we have running water.”

“You and me both,” Xander replied. “I should have it going in the next couple of days, maybe even before we get a bead on the next Slayer.”

“We need more adults,” Corey pointed out. “If both of us are needed to retrieve a Slayer, someone will need to stay here.”

“Giles is working on it,” he assured her. “He’s still trying to locate all of the Watchers who might have survived.”

Corey frowned. “I would have thought that would be done already.”

Xander shook his head. “The records were destroyed when the building blew. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much in the way of current data located off-site, which means that we’re starting from scratch for the most part.”

She nodded slowly. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“We hadn’t either until we got started,” Xander responded.

“Harris!” Miles came over the rise, limping and leaning on his cane heavily. “Nàtili tells me that she killed a demon.” He stopped when he saw the body. “I see your location has been discovered.”

“We had to expect it would happen, given everything that’s been going on in other parts of the world,” Xander replied.

“You’ll need to bury the body,” Miles said briskly. “It won’t bury itself, you know, and it’s doing no one any good lying about in the garden.”

“I was just getting around to it.” Xander looked at the old Watcher-cum-professor. “Is your arthritis bothering you today?”

“No more than usual.” Miles waved off his concern irritably, not liking to be reminded of his infirmity. He had informed Xander that he would have been back out in the field in a heartbeat after the First Evil had begun its assault on the Council and the Slayer line, but he’d known he would be more of a hindrance than a help.

Xander felt for the man. One of the reasons that he enjoyed his position in Africa so much was that no one here had known him before he’d lost his eye. They all assumed that he would be just fine, and that he didn’t need help unless he asked for it.

“When are the other girls arriving?” Miles asked.

“In a day or two,” Corey said. “Their parents are bringing them.”

“Will you tell them the truth?”

Corey shook her head. “No. We don’t want the school to get a reputation for being a place where strange things happen. There are still many superstitions in the area.”

“That’s true enough,” Miles replied. “By the way, Harris, Rupert called me earlier. He said that he’ll be sending a new Watcher this way.”

Xander looked over at Corey, raising an eyebrow.

She laughed. “You did say he was on it.”

He glanced up at the sky, judging that it was close to lunchtime by the position of the sun and the growling of his stomach. “Let’s get back; we can bury the demon later. I’m starving.”

~~~~~

Corey stood in the doorway of the new school and looked at the man standing under the African sky. His hands were shoved in his pockets, and he stared out into the darkness, an absent expression on his face. She knew him well enough by now to know that he was thinking of Anya. His grief for her had still been evident when they had first met, but time had a tendency to soften those rough edges.

The emails he’d received recently had seemed to renew it.

“Would you like something to drink?” she asked, alerting him to her presence, if he wasn’t already aware of it.

“No, thanks.” He looked over his shoulder with his good eye. “I’ve done too much of that recently.”

“Not here.”

“No, but in Sunnydale. It got me into trouble.”

“Are you alright?”

He sighed. “I found out that someone came back from the dead.”

“Who?” she asked, having heard much about his friends from Sunnydale.

“Spike.”

“The vampire?”

“The amulet he wore to close the Hellmouth, the one that killed him, also brought him back.” He shook his head, his expression indicating disgust, but Corey couldn’t tell whether it was at himself or someone else. “I’m trying to be happy about it.”

“Is it not working?”

“Buffy was in love with him,” he said absently. “Still is. He’s back—and Anya isn’t.”

“It’s natural to be jealous,” Corey said encouragingly. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Maybe.” His lips quirked. “Anya would have hated it here, you know. She wasn’t all that thrilled with the idea of fighting anyway. She’d been a vengeance demon for so long that she wasn’t truly happy about being mortal. She was afraid of dying.”

“Who isn’t?”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “But she still fought.”

“She sounds very brave.”

“She was.” He reached up and rubbed his eye. “Allergies.”

Corey looked away politely, pretending not to see how choked up he was. She understood what it was to grieve; her father had been in Council headquarters when it had been blown up; she had been at the university here in Pretoria. Miles had been the one to bring her the news.

And now, suddenly, she found herself working full-time for the Council, in a capacity she’d never expected. Only a few years ago, the position she held would have been given to someone who was older, and who had more experience, and Xander Harris would never have come.

She missed her father, but she thought that some of the changes might have done the Council good.

“I don’t think it would have worked,” Xander said abruptly. “Too much had happened between us, and we weren’t the same people we had been before.”

“Before what?”

“Before the First, before I left her at the altar.” He didn’t look at her. “Do you ever look back and not recognize yourself?”

She didn’t respond immediately, giving his question some thought. “I don’t know. Sometimes I don’t recognize my life now, if that’s what you mean.”

“Close enough.” Xander threw a brotherly arm across her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “I think I’m going to bed. You coming?”

“In a bit,” she replied, knowing that he wasn’t offering to share her own, but only asking whether she was coming inside soon.

Corey knew all too well that he didn’t look at her in _that_ way, and she had every intention of keeping her fancy a secret. He was a good friend, and that was enough.

She looked down at her hands, at the calluses that roughened her palms, and wondered if it might have been easier had she not been too old to be activated as a Slayer when the spell was cast.

~~~~~

The phone rang in the middle of the night, which was never a good thing in Xander’s mind. He picked up, the jolt of adrenalin waking him effectively. “Yeah?”

“We have confirmation of another Slayer,” Giles said without preamble. “You need to leave immediately.”

“Do you know who and where?”

“Zimbabwe,” he replied. “And from what we’ve been able to determine, she’s an American.”

Xander sat up slowly. “How do you know?”

“Because the girl is a relative of one of our remaining Watchers. The family linkages are complicated and unimportant.” He sighed. “We lost track of her when the Council blew up, and her parents were against any sort of training.”

“She won’t have much of an option now,” Xander said, regret coloring his tone. None of the girls who had been Chosen had much of a choice. “Directions?”

“Dawn is emailing your travel itinerary right now, and I’ll call Miles to stay at the school.”

“We had a demon here earlier,” Xander objected. “Corey said it was an assassin demon native to the area. Nàtali took care of it with a hoe.”

“Precocious Slayer,” Giles observed. “Good for her.”

“Yeah, but if we have an onslaught—”

“I’m sending another Watcher your way,” he said.

Xander frowned. “What, right now? I thought it would be a couple of weeks.”

“I wasn’t sure who I could spare who would be suited to your situation,” Giles said, his tone sharp. “But I have found him.”

“Him?”

“He’s seventeen, and he’s spent time in Africa,” Giles explained.

Xander’s eyes widened. “Seventeen? Isn’t that a little young?”

“No younger than the Slayers, and he volunteered.”

Xander sighed. “Fine. What’s his name?”

“Bertrand Whitney-Jones.”

“Poor kid.”

“Be that as it may, he speaks a number of languages, including Afrikaans and several demonic languages, and he’s proficient with weapons.”

It sounded as though Giles was trying to sell the kid. “I’m not buying him, Giles. You’re sending him as a gift. What do I need to know?”

“He’s a little—zealous.”

Xander groaned. “You’re sending me another Andrew?”

“Hmm,” Giles replied noncommittally. “He has some maturing to do, but I’m certain that he will be of use. I’ll talk to you soon, Xander.”

Xander heard the dial tone before he could object, and he groaned again, louder this time. The last thing he needed was some green kid running around, acting like he was the next great demon hunter. The only know-it-all he liked was Willow.

He rose and threw some clothing on, then headed to Corey’s room and knocked briskly. “We’ve got a new Slayer.”

Her head popped out, dark braids pulled back in a long ponytail. “I heard the phone ring. Was that Mr. Giles?”

“Yeah, he says there’s a baby Watcher headed our way.”

“How much of a baby?”

“Seventeen and very enthusiastic, according to Giles.”

Corey smirked. “I know how to break him in; don’t worry about that. Where’s the new Slayer?”

“Zimbabwe,” Xander replied. “She’s a missionary kid, according to Giles, and somehow related to one of the Council members. Sounds like her parents might not be thrilled with us showing up.”

“That doesn’t sound promising.” Corey shrugged. “Let me finish getting my stuff together, and I’ll join you.”

“I have to download our itinerary anyway. You’ll tell Nàtili that we’re heading out?”

Corey’s eyes narrowed. “What if she comes with us?”

“She doesn’t have papers.”

“Yes, she does,” Corey replied. “They came by post today.”

Xander thought about it for a moment. “I suppose that would take care of the problem of leaving her here by herself. Miles will probably do better if the only person he has to worry about is the new Watcher.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Corey promised.

Xander gave her a lopsided smile. “Thanks, Cor. I wouldn’t be able to do this without you.”

Her return smile seemed a little wistful, but Xander chalked it up to her lost sleep and the long days that faced them.

~~~~~

Bertrand Whitney-Jones stepped off the plane and into the African sun. He’d jumped at the opportunity to come to South Africa, and the head Watcher had agreed because he was one of the few Watchers in training who spoke both Afrikaans and Swahili, courtesy of his mother.

And his mother had been at Council headquarters with his father when the First had blown up the building. He wanted to be out in the field, doing something, rather than just sitting in a classroom.

Now he had the chance to make a real difference.

“Bertrand!”

He winced at the name even as he headed towards the speaker, an older gentleman who looked vaguely familiar. “Hello. Have we met?”

“Miles Bennett. I was a friend of your mother’s,” the man said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Do you have more luggage?”

“One case,” he replied. “And my friends call me Whit.”

“Much easier than Bertrand,” Miles agreed. “You’ll call me Miles, of course. I was a great admirer of your mother, you know. She was a wonderful lady.”

“She was.” Whit found his bag in the pile and slung it over his shoulder, trying not to stagger under the weight. The last time he’d seen his mother, she had commented on his sudden growth spurt and the resultant lankiness. “You’ll grow into yourself, my boy.”

She wouldn’t be around to see it.

“I was sorry to hear about her death,” Miles was saying. “We lost a number of invaluable assets that day.”

Whit didn’t much like talking about it, although he’d met several people who all said the same thing: his parents, particularly his mother, had been wonderful, and would be sorely missed. He was well aware of that fact; he missed them more than he could say.

“We did.” Then, in an abrupt subject change, he asked, “Where is Xander? I’ve been looking forward to meeting him.”

“He was called away to collect another Slayer,” Miles replied. “He and Corey took the sole Slayer at the school with them. I daresay they aren’t entirely sure that I can care for a child of Nàtali’s age.”

“How old is she?”

“Perhaps twelve?” Miles guessed. “You realize that many of the Slayers are too young to go out into the field by all rights. Unfortunately, we may not have much time to wait for them to grow up.”

Whit frowned, tossing his gear into Miles’ Land Rover. “What do you mean?”

Miles shook his head. “I’ll let Xander tell you when he returns. Let’s just say that we may soon have more trouble than we can feasibly deal with.”

Whit didn’t like the sound of that.


	4. Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

**“…I don’t know what to tell you about the Cleveland Hellmouth, Faith. You’re lucky you’ve been able to reach a few girls. We finally found one alive the other day. It looks like they’re being targeted, and the untrained Slayers are as vulnerable as the potentials were…” ~Excerpt of an email from Willow Rosenberg to Faith Lehane**

Willow rubbed her eyes wearily. She’d been up with Spike all night, attempting to find the second Slayer, one that the coven hadn’t been aware of. She had no idea whether that meant the girl had been activated when the other Slayer had been killed, or if the coven had simply missed one.

She’d caught a few hours of sleep, up until Giles had called, then she’d gone out looking for the girl with Kennedy, who had finally shown up, refusing to divulge where she had been. It didn’t matter, however; they had found the girl alive, and she’d left Kennedy to watch from a distance until the new Watcher arrived.

Once the sun had gone down, Willow had accompanied Spike to the airport, and now she was waiting for the new Watcher.

All she really wanted was to sleep.

Giles had described the new Watcher as a tall, blonde woman with glasses, but there were a few of those coming out of the gate. Willow realized that she probably should have brought a sign with her.

“Willow Rosenberg?” The woman standing in front of her was indeed tall and blonde, and rather plain, with a broad, round face, her eyes hidden behind thick glasses.

“That’s me,” Willow replied, mustering up a smile. “You must be Zoë Michelson.”

“Yes. I recognized you from a photo,” she explained, “that Dawn was kind enough to show me before I left so I would know you immediately.”

Willow smiled. “That’s Dawnie. Always thinking. How is she?”

“Worried about Buffy, I believe,” Zoë replied frankly. “But otherwise delightful.” She looked a little wistful when she said, “She will be an absolutely amazing Watcher.”

“_If_ Buffy ever lets her out into the field,” Willow said, knowing that Buffy was likely to fight that tooth and nail. Her money was on Dawn for winning, though. She’d managed to get back to Sunnydale, even though Buffy had asked Xander to spirit her off.

Zoë nodded. “Yes, there is that. Did Spike already leave? I’ve heard a lot about him.”

“About two hours ago,” Willow confirmed. “Are you hungry? We can stop and get something to eat, but then I’m afraid I’ll have to put you to work. We’ve found another Slayer, and we need an interpreter. I don’t know how we’re going to convince her to come along in Portuguese, but it would probably be impossible in English.”

Zoë looked thoughtful. “I think the standard speech when we locate a potential Slayer will do just as well with a few modifications.”

Willow was glad that the other woman seemed to know what she was doing, because she still had no idea.

~~~~~

Twenty-four hours later, and Willow had to admit that she was impressed with the other woman. She had a brisk efficiency and a tireless manner that was very welcome; Willow recognized someone that she could share the burden with in a way that Kennedy hadn’t been able to manage.

Not only had she put the new Slayer, Rute, at ease, but she had convinced her to come to the training room the Council had bought to train the new Slayers once they’d been found. Rute had appeared excited about the opportunity, and she’d convinced her parents to allow her to stay the night at a friend’s house.

The only thing that Zoë hadn’t been able to do was to make peace with Kennedy, who had been prickly all day. When the Watcher had admitted that she was unlikely to best the girl with weapons, Kennedy had seemed to lose all desire to even attempt to work with her.

Now Kennedy was arguing about the best way to disarm an opponent, and it was clear that Zoë was rapidly becoming frustrated.

“Enough, Kennedy!” the Watcher finally snapped, exasperated. “I might not be a weapons master, but I do know how to use them.”

“You’re tripping over your own sword,” Kennedy shot back. “I don’t see why I should have to listen to you.”

“Maybe because Giles sent me to help train you.” Clearly trying for a lighter tone, Zoë added, “Who knows? You might learn something new.”

“Forget it,” Kennedy said. “I don’t need a Watcher.”

Willow opened her mouth to say something, but Zoë gave a quick shake of her head behind the Slayer’s back. “If you don’t need a Watcher, you don’t need to be here.”

Kennedy stomped out a moment later, and the Watcher turned to Rute and spoke in Portuguese; the younger girl had been watching the conflict with wide eyes. Her English wasn’t good, but she probably spoke enough to catch most of that.

Willow couldn’t communicate very well in Portuguese, but she understood enough to catch the gist of it. Rute headed out for a well-deserved break, and Zoë turned to her. “She’s not going to be able to stay.”

“I know.” Willow let out a breath. “I’ve known it was coming for a while now.”

Zoë sat down next to her on the bench in the training room they had rented. “I realize that I’m not the most proficient with weapons, but—”

“You were right. You’re the Watcher, and what you say goes.” Willow was quiet for a moment, thinking back to Sunnydale. “She never liked taking orders, and over the last few weeks, she got used to being in charge.”

Zoë shook her head. “She could still be in charge out in the field, but not in the training room.”

“I don’t think she sees the difference.” Willow closed her eyes. “I’ll talk to Giles. She might do better with Faith and Robin; she’ll recognize Faith’s authority where she won’t yours.”

“That might work. I’m sorry. I know you two were involved.”

“That ended,” Willow replied. “Right around the time that Spike showed up, but it’s been going that route for a while. Honestly, Kennedy was a rebound.”

Zoë nodded. “I get that. I’ve had a couple of those myself.”

They shared a commiserating look. “What are we going to do?”

“Find more Slayers,” Zoë replied. “It’s the only thing we can do.”

~~~~~

“Slayer.”

Kennedy whirled to face the oncoming threat. “What are you?”

“I’m your death.”

She couldn’t see the demon clearly in the half-light of the alley. She’d refused company on her patrol, leaving Willow with Rute and Zoë, since they were getting along so well. There was a small part of her that knew she was being petty and jealous, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself.

It hurt to know that her relationship with Willow had been transitory; she’d believed that she was in love, and had thought that Willow loved her. It wasn’t like that at all.

Now, she found herself in an alley in Rio de Janeiro, staring into the face of a demon who promised death.

“Bring it on,” she said. She’d faced death before; it didn’t scare her.

The demon started for her, raising clawed hands. Kennedy ducked and kicked up from her crouched position, her booted heel landing solidly on its chest. The hand grabbed her ankle and twisted, the claws biting deep into her leg and sending her tumbling to the ground.

She cursed fluently, jerking her leg free and rolling to one side. Kennedy suddenly knew that if she didn’t get out of there, and quickly, she really would see death close up. Grunting with the pain, and holding herself up with her arms, she swept her good leg around to take the demon down in a jumble of arms and legs.

The claws sliced her side, and she narrowed her eyes, reaching for her stake and plunging it into the demon’s chest. Kennedy had no idea whether or not the weapon would be effective, but she sure as hell knew that it would buy her time.

All she needed was a little time to get back to the house. They might not be talking right now, but Willow would help.

~~~~~

Zoë was awoken from a sound sleep by someone shaking her shoulder. “Wha—” She recognized Willow as soon as she opened her eyes. “What happened?”

“It’s Kennedy,” the witch said. “Come quickly.”

She took enough time to throw a robe over her short nightshirt before following Willow out to the living room. Rute was standing there, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, face pale, staring at the still figure on the couch.

Kennedy was covered in blood, and Zoë quickly said in Portuguese, “Go get the bandages and hot water, Rute. Quickly, now.”

The girl scurried off, and Zoë knelt at the Slayer’s side. “This is bad.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Kennedy replied weakly. “I’m not going to make it.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Zoë said briskly. “You’ve lost quite a bit of blood, but it doesn’t appear that any of your wounds are fatal.”

“How do you know?”

“I’m a Watcher; it’s part of my job.” Zoë accepted the kit that Rute held out to her, and motioned to Willow. “We need to begin with the worst wounds, and she’ll need liquids.” The tea kettle whistled in the background, and Zoë nodded, satisfied. “Good, Rute. Grab the hot water and any juice you find in the fridge.”

She worked quickly in conjunction with Willow to “plug the leaks,” as her old mentor had been wont to say. Kennedy’s injuries were bad, and while unlikely to kill her, there was always the possibility of poison. The important thing was to stop the bleeding; they would worry about the rest later.

When Kennedy looked like she was losing consciousness, Zoë slapped her lightly on the cheeks. “Stay with me,” she ordered. “I need you to describe the demon.”

“I didn’t see it clearly,” the girl replied, looking as though she would pass out at any moment. “It was too dark. Claws. That’s all.”

Zoë shared a look with Willow, but she didn’t want to frighten the injured girl; Kennedy might like to pretend otherwise, but she was still little more than a scared adolescent. “Sleep now,” she said. “You’ll be just fine.”

Rute was hovering nearby, looking at them anxiously. “Will she die?” she asked in her native tongue.

The Watcher wanted to tell her that there was no way, but she knew that lying to her would be incredibly unfair. The poor girl hadn’t even been able to get used to the idea of being a Slayer before being faced with the realities of being injured—or worse.

“I don’t think so,” she said. “Are you frightened?”

“Yes,” Rute admitted. “But I will not quit.”

“Good.” Zoë turned to Willow. “We need to track the demon if we can and find out what it was. If its claws were poisonous, time could be of the essence.”

“She probably bled all the way here,” the witch replied. “I can track her that way.”

“Take Rute with you,” Zoë said. “She may be of some help.”

Willow frowned. “She’s untrained.”

“This is how Slayers become trained,” Zoë replied, knowing that it wasn’t fair, but it was reality. The only way the girl would learn was to be in danger.

This was the part about being an active Watcher that she hadn’t looked forward to.

~~~~~

There was a part of Willow that knew that every Slayer who died was her responsibility. If she hadn’t resurrected Buffy, the First Evil never would have been able to exploit the weakness in the Slayer line, and they wouldn’t have had to activate all the potentials. It was one of those facts that she tended to keep at the back of her mind to avoid being paralyzed with guilt, but it was at the forefront now.

With Rute slipping through the darkness next to her, and Kennedy lying injured back at their apartment, Willow was reminded once again of how far-reaching the consequences of her actions could be.

The body of the demon was easy to find; the blood trail was obvious with the modified locator spell she was using. Willow used a simple light spell to illuminate the demon’s face, and Rute let out an exclamation as soon as she saw it.

“What is it?” Willow asked, then repeated her question in Portuguese. It was one of the few phrases she knew how to say.

The girl shook her head, looking frustrated. “Monster.” She motioned, clearly impatient with her inability to communicate effectively. “Freddy Kreuger?”

Rute looked hopeful, and Willow frowned, trying to figure out what she meant by that. “Oh! You mean the boogeyman?”

The girl nodded. “Evil monster.”

“Let’s get back,” Willow said. “I think we have enough information to identify the kind of demon now.”

Rute probably had no idea what she’d just said, but she followed her away from the body without saying anything. Willow wished that she had a spell that would magically enable her to learn a new language without having to work at it.

When they arrived back at the apartment, Zoë listened to the description of the demon, the crease between her brows deepening. “That sounds like a Brazilian Demos. That’s not good.”

“Are you thinking poison?” Willow asked. They were standing in the kitchen, talking in low voices. Zoë had sent Rute to bed, thanking her for her help, and they were both trying to avoid disturbing Kennedy, who was sleeping fitfully.

“I’m thinking assassin.” The Watcher looked at Willow sharply. “Do you know which demon clan it was that killed the other girl?”

The witch shook her head. “Spike just said the area was controlled by a demon clan, but not which one.”

“We’ll need confirmation, but I would imagine that it’s the Demos clan,” Zoë said. “They’re assassins, and if one went after Kennedy, and another killed the first girl, we’ve got a major problem. We’re going to be racing to find Slayers. The ones we don’t find will probably wind up dead.”

“But no pressure,” Willow murmured. “Shit.”

“That would be one way to put it.” Zoë began pacing. “There must be a better way to find these girls. If the Demos are killing girls here, then this may be a more widespread problem. It may be one of the reasons why we’re having so much trouble finding them.”

Willow sank down in a kitchen chair. “That would mean we have the same trouble we had with the Bringers. You can’t find Slayers if they’re dead.”

“Here in Rio de Janeiro, at least,” Zoë said. “From what Giles has said, he isn’t having quite the same trouble in England or on the Continent. It’s entirely possible that this demon clan is taking steps to ensure that their reign is uninterrupted.”

Willow frowned. “Then time is of the essence. We need to put a stop to this immediately, but we’re going to need help. I wish Spike hadn’t left.”

“Can we get him back?” Zoë asked.

Willow winced. “Tearing him from Buffy’s side before they’ve even been able to have reunion sex? I doubt it. I need to call Giles and let him know what’s going on. If we can, we should probably send Kennedy on to Faith. Maybe he’ll have some idea of how to deal with this new threat.” She sighed. “The problem is that we’re spread so thin already. We just don’t have enough trained Slayers or Watchers to take out a threat of this magnitude.”

“There are other trained Slayers,” Zoë said, musing. “Those who were in Sunnydale with you. I can talk to Giles, too, and try to convince him to send as many as he can.”

“Roving bands of Slayers,” Willow joked. “He’ll love that.”

“We need them.”

“I know.” Willow shook her head. “I know we should get on this immediately, but—”

“Sleep,” Zoë advised. “We both need it, and we won’t be much good without it. Rute is the only known Slayer in the area right now, and we can’t do anything for the ones we don’t know about.”

“You call Giles tomorrow,” Willow said. “If we have to recall Spike, I don’t want to be the one delivering that news, even second hand. I’ll call the coven. We need to locate the girls here as soon as possible.”

Although that probably went without saying.


	5. Cleveland, Ohio

**“…I can take Kennedy, but only if you get me out of Cleveland. Things here aren’t working out so great. Robin’s been a total bastard to live with over the last week. I’ll go anywhere just to get out of Ohio for a while. Let him handle Ken. He’s used to dealing with punk-ass teens…” ~Excerpt from an email from Faith Lehane to Rupert Giles**

Faith had gone to Cleveland with Robin because it had seemed like the thing to do. Giles would have needed a lot of time to get her the proper documents to leave the country anyway, and Ohio seemed as good a place as any.

Besides, at the time she’d thought that being with Robin was what she wanted. Now, she wasn’t so sure.

“Why do you have to be so stubborn?” he hissed, dark eyes angry. “You’re shutting me out.”

Her eyes narrowed. “No, actually, I’m asking for some space. It’s a completely different vibe, or it might be if you’d listen to me for a change, instead of assuming that you know what’s best.”

She turned to leave the house, wanting nothing more than to go out and find a vampire or two to kill—a Hellmouth had plenty of those, whether it was located in Sunnydale or Cleveland. His hand clamped down over her upper arm. “We’re not done, Faith.”

Her move was instinctual; she twisted his arm behind his back, causing him enough pain to send him to his knees. “I think we are done,” she said in a low voice. Faith looked up and caught the eyes of one of the young Slayers who was staying with them.

“I’m going out,” she announced, releasing Wood abruptly. “I think I need to work off this tension.”

“Can I come, too?” Rachel asked, tilting her chin up and trying to look tough. At seventeen, she thought she knew it all; Faith recognized a kindred spirit in the girl.

Hesitating for only a moment, she nodded sharply. “Yeah. Come on.”

She turned to look over her shoulder as she left the house. Robin’s jaw was set, and she could tell that he was pissed as hell that she’d taken him down in front of one of the girls. There would be no living with him after this, and she hoped Giles got his ass in gear and got her out of Ohio—otherwise, she’d be taking matters into her own hands.

“You got weapons?” Faith asked, knowing that there was an extra cache in the truck she’d bought. It was old and battered, and it guzzled almost as much oil as gas, but it was hers, and it was pretty handy when it came to hauling demon bodies around.

It would have been useful for hauling Slayers, too, but Robin kept reminding her that it wasn’t safe to have passengers in the truck bed.

“Don’t leave home without them, right?” Rachel responded.

“Good girl.”

They set off on foot, and in silence. Faith wondered what the other Slayer thought of what she’d seen. She hadn’t meant to get physical with him, but she wasn’t about to let anybody manhandle her—unless she wanted them to, of course.

Robin kept insisting that they could work things out, but Faith suspected that what they’d had in Sunnydale had been due to circumstances and not much else. Robin still wanted his dead mother, and Faith had wanted someone to connect to.

Too bad it hadn’t been him.

“So, you going to take off?”

Faith wasn’t sure how to answer that question. She knew that it wouldn’t be fair to the girls if she left, but at the same time, she wasn’t going to run Robin off. He’d been raised by a Watcher, which meant that he was actually good at this shit. She was good at killing demons, and she hadn’t been getting enough of that lately.

“Depends on what Giles says, I guess,” she finally said. “Don’t think this is going to work out.”

Rachel was quiet. “We’d rather you stay than Robin.”

“Yeah?”

“He’s a little weird.”

“He’s had a rough life.”

“Who hasn’t?” Rachel asked, the question rhetorical. “What is up with him?”

“His mom was a Slayer,” Faith explained. “She got killed by the same vampire who died saving the world in the last apocalypse, and it f—messed with his head.” She’d been trying to watch her language around the kids, tried not to smoke so much. Robin kept telling her that it wasn’t good for her, and it wasn’t good for the girls to see her doing it.

Faith wanted to remind him that they had an escaped felon for a mentor, and that wasn’t good for them either, but she’d refrained.

Man, but she was ready to bust loose.

“Was that Spike?” Rachel asked. “The one that just came back?”

“Yeah, that was him.” And wasn’t that a kick in the pants? She supposed that he and Buffy were even now; they’d both come back from the dead twice. Faith had some catching up to do.

Not that she knew of anybody who would want to bring her back if she did buy it.

Shaking her head, trying to rid herself of the doubts that seemed to plague her all too often these days, she increased her pace, smiling when Rachel matched it. “You ready to see some action, kid?”

“Oh, yeah.”

Faith began running; there was an active cemetery not far from where they’d rented a house. It was one of the reasons they’d chosen the location. There was sure to be a few fledglings there tonight. Once they’d cleaned up there, she’d drop Rachel back by the house, grab a few things, and go out on a serious hunt.

Faith had her cell for when Giles got around to calling her; meanwhile, she didn’t have to go home.

~~~~~

When the phone rang, she eyed the caller I.D. suspiciously. Robin had called a dozen times so far, but she hadn’t picked up. She half-expected him to find a different phone and call from there in an attempt get her on the line, but so far there hadn’t been any numbers she didn’t recognize.

Giles’ name was welcome, however, and Faith swallowed the last of her breakfast sandwich and answered. “Talk to me.”

“Faith? Are you alright?”

She sighed. “Did Robin call you?”

“He’s worried.”

“I told him I needed some time alone,” she replied tightly. “It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal.”

There was a pause. “I see.”

“Look, Giles, this isn’t working for me,” she said bluntly. “He wants to know every move I make, and he doesn’t like letting me out of his sight. I get that his mom royally fucked him up, but I am _not_ his mother.”

“That’s quite the astute observation,” he said.

Faith rolled her eyes, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to see it, but confident he would hear the sentiment in her voice. “Do you know how many shrinks I had to talk to in prison? You pick up a few things.”

He cleared his throat uncomfortably; the others always got a little squirmy when she mentioned being behind bars. Faith never knew whether that was because they thought she still belonged there, because they didn’t like harboring a fugitive, or for some other reason completely unknown to her.

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, Faith,” he finally said. “And Robin was quite—upset on the phone.”

“You mean that he was nearly in hysterics.”

“Hmm.” Faith understood his hesitation. No matter how much things changed, some things stayed the same, and there was still a divide between Slayers and Watchers. She supposed that it was natural. “I’ve been working with the coven. They have managed to alter your records in the system; they have a very good techno-pagan there now.”

Her ears perked up at that. There was always the niggling fear that someone would recognize her and try to take her in again. Not that they would be able to; she was a Slayer, and the only reason she’d been there was because she’d chosen to be.

Being hunted was pretty damn inconvenient, though.

“Yeah?”

“As far as the criminal justice system is concerned, Faith Lehane died in the Los Angeles riots,” Giles explained. “Your new papers are on their way. I’m afraid that they’re going to be delivered to the house, though.”

She made a face. Her preferred method was to slip out of town without saying goodbye, but it didn’t look like that was an option this time. “Yeah, okay.”

“The coven found another Slayer in Illinois,” Giles added. “Robin is already on his way.”

Faith hid her sigh of relief. “That’s great, Giles. Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me,” he replied, his tone wry. “The truth is that Willow needs you in Brazil. There’s a demon clan there that has declared an open season on new Slayers, and that’s a problem that must be taken care of immediately by those with experience. I would send Spike, but as he just arrived—”

“It makes sense that it would be me,” Faith finished for him, hiding the flash of joy she felt at the words. She’d never been out of the country before; her first trip would have been to Mexico while in Buffy’s body, but she’d never made it. Brazil was perfect.

Giles’ tone made it clear that he was relieved she understood. “Yes, it does. Thank you. After that, I’m going to need you to do me another favor.”

“What’s that?” she asked suspiciously.

“I’ll need you to go to Los Angeles and check in on Angel,” Giles replied. “You’re closest to him, and you left on good terms, I believe.”

“We’re okay,” she confirmed. “Why?”

There was a pause, and Faith knew that this time the head Watcher was trying to figure out how to say what he meant. “Angel is now running the L.A. branch of Wolfram and Hart, a notoriously evil law firm. We must know whether or not he’s been subverted, and we need to know all we can about the amulet that Spike wore.”

Faith understood what he was saying. Angelus would only add to their current problems, and even if he wasn’t precisely evil, he could still do a lot of damage. She’d heard about his trip to the dark side with his soul intact.

“I’ll do what I can,” she promised. “We’re on good terms, but you know Angel. If he doesn’t want to listen, he won’t.”

“I know. More than anything else, we need information,” Giles assured her. “And, if you can, I’d like you to convince him and anyone else you can to join our side.”

Faith blinked. “Excuse me?”

“I realize that we haven’t had much to do with Angel and his team, but we need everyone we can get, as long as they haven’t been corrupted.” She could hear a thread of fear running through his voice, and she shivered. “We’re spread too thin, Faith. I’m sending everyone I can possibly spare to Willow, but we’re not finding Slayers as quickly as we anticipated, possibly because they are being picked off. And, when they are found, there is still the problem of training them, because we don’t have the Watchers we need.”

She swallowed, feeling a little overwhelmed by Giles’ statement, and knowing that he must feel the same, just from what he’d said. Willow’s spell had opened Pandora’s Box, and there was no undoing it.

It might have been necessary, and maybe it would prove to be the right choice in the long run, but right now it was scary.

“I’ll do what I can,” Faith promised. “They might listen to me, but I can’t make any promises.”

“That’s all I ask. Have Willow call me when you land in Rio,” he instructed. “The plane tickets and itinerary will be with the bundle of paperwork I’m sending you.”

“Wait.” Faith had just thought of something. “If Faith Lehane is dead, who does that make me?”

“You’re still Faith,” he assured her. “Just with a different surname. I have to go. Be careful!”

The line went dead, and she smiled. It felt good to have someone concerned enough about her to listen to what she wanted for a change.

And it looked like she was going to be doing quite a bit of traveling.

~~~~~

Faith was grateful that Giles managed to get the paperwork and the tickets to her before Robin returned with the new Slayer. It was harder to say goodbye to the girls than she’d thought it would be, but easy to simply leave a “dear John” letter for Robin. She regretted that it hadn’t worked out, but not that it hadn’t worked out with him.

Maybe she wasn’t meant to be in a long-term relationship. She’d known it, but she hadn’t listened to her instincts.

She was in Washington, D.C. when Robin called. Giles’ note had explained that there weren’t any non-stop flights, and the cheapest package had a layover there. Faith didn’t much care as long as she was out of Cleveland and on her way to something different.

Once Kennedy was well enough to travel, she’d take Faith’s place, and the older Slayer had no doubt that she’d help keep the younger ones in line. She was well trained, and she’d had a Watcher, which was more than Faith had had when she’d first been Chosen.

For a moment, she considered not picking up her phone, but changed her mind. Might as well get it over with. “Yeah?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m in Washington, D.C., on my way to Rio,” Faith replied, not bothering to soften her tone. “Giles already told you that.”

“Come back to Cleveland, Faith,” he coaxed. “We can work it out.”

Faith’s mouth twisted. She hated messy breakups; this was why she should have stuck to sex with no strings attached. “That option was off the table when you put your hands on me,” she shot back.

“I thought you liked it when I put my hands on you.”

“Talking dirty to me isn’t going to help you.” Faith fought the urge to hang up on him. She wanted closure; they were still on the same side, and it was likely that they’d run into each other again. “Look, we’re not going to work out. I’m too independent.”

The anger crept back into his voice. “You were shutting me out, Faith.”

“I wanted my own space, just an evening or two out by myself. Shit, Wood, you know I’m not the kind of girl you can cage.”

“I wanted to take care of you.”

Faith was about to make a suggestion that was anatomically impossible when she saw the little girl sitting beside her, watching with wide eyes. She closed her eyes, reining in her temper. “You wanted to stifle me. I’m not your mother, Robin, and I’m not a replacement for her.”

She heard the dial tone a second later, and she knew that she’d scored a painful blow. Maybe she shouldn’t have said it, but she’d spoken the truth. Faith hadn’t been lying when she’d told Giles that she had picked up quite a bit from the shrinks in prison, and she didn’t believe that Robin chasing after both Buffy and her was a coincidence.

Leaning back in the uncomfortable airport chair, Faith tried to push all of that from her mind, focusing on what lay ahead.

She might suck at relationships, but killing demons she could do.


	6. Bath, England

**“…I’m glad to hear that you’ve settled into Osmotherley without problems. Spike arrived yesterday, but as he’d been awake for nearly 48 hours, and we barely made it back to headquarters before sunrise, we haven’t spoken in any depth yet. I am getting reports of other disturbances, and Willow’s situation is rather dire at the moment, so I will send Spike onto you when I can…” ~Excerpt from an email from Rupert Giles to Buffy Summers**

Giles hit “send,” feeling a sense of accomplishment. Although he often asked Dawn to assist him with all things having to do with computers and the internet, he could manage to communicate now—without blowing anything up. He called that an improvement.

He had no desire to keep Spike and Buffy apart, but he _was_ the head of the Council now, and he bore certain responsibilities that forced him to make difficult decisions. In this instance, Giles was looking at the very real need for Spike’s services, and the strong possibility that he would be needed at a location where Buffy was not.

If he’d treated the vampire better—if he hadn’t tried to have him killed—Giles would have felt a little more sanguine about asking him to go elsewhere. As things stood between them, Spike would have no reason to trust him.

“Giles?” Dawn’s voice filtered into the study. “Where’s Spike? Did he get in okay?” She entered the room slowly, looking around as though she expected to see the vampire there.

“He’s sleeping, as far as I know,” Giles replied. “We arrived just before the sun rose this morning.”

She frowned. “He didn’t want to see Buffy immediately?”

“I don’t know,” the Watcher admitted. “We didn’t talk about it.”

Turning to go, Dawn nearly ran into Spike, who was standing in the doorway. “Spike!”

“Dawn.” His voice was even, his tone wary, as though he wasn’t quite sure of his welcome. Giles wondered how much of that was due to seeing the girl, and how much of it was his fault.

They stood, staring at one another, until Dawn turned to give Giles a pleading look. He realized that she resembled her sister very much in that moment, and Giles had rarely been able to say no to Buffy. “I think I’ll make some tea,” he announced. “Are you hungry, Spike?”

“Yeah,” he said, then added, “Thanks.”

Giles left them to it, wondering what it was that lay between them.

~~~~~

He looked the same. That was the first thing that Dawn noticed, although she could see changes; the lack of the duster was a big one.

Of course, he _would_ look the same. No time had passed for him, and weeks had gone by in the outside world. And, of course, _vampire_.

The silence lay heavy between them, and Dawn realized that he wasn’t going to make the first move, and that she’d given him no reason to believe that his welcome from her would be anything but cold. “It’s good to see you,” she finally managed.

Spike met her eyes, and something there seemed to relax and uncoil. “Yeah. Same here. How have you been, Dawn?”

She missed his nicknames for her, but maybe they were past that now. “Good,” she replied. “Busy.”

“Yeah, I heard that.”

Dawn had no idea what to say to him, how to make up for all the months she’d treated him to a chilly silence. He’d died to save them all, died to save her sister, and it was clear now that she’d been wrong about him.

“We really missed you,” she finally said simply.

Hope flickered in his eyes. “Yeah?”

The one word loosed her tongue. “She cried, you know. A lot. She didn’t think you believed her, and she was worried—” Dawn didn’t know how to put it into words. Her sister hadn’t been able to fully explain her distress over Spike not believing her.

“S’pose it worked out for the best,” he said. “The world got saved, an’ here I am.”

“I guess so.”

Anything else she might have said was interrupted by Giles’ entry. He put the tray down on his desk, and Dawn settled into her customary chair. After a moment’s hesitation, Spike sat down in the other chair, and Giles pulled the desk chair around to join them.

The next few minutes were filled with pouring tea and doctoring it with milk and sugar. Spike took his mug of blood and watched the process through half-closed eyes. “Well, then,” Giles began, clearing his throat. “Has Willow filled you in on the current situation, Spike?”

“Some,” he replied. “Sounds like you’ve got your hands full.”

“You know that she’s having trouble.” Giles looked apologetic. “If you hadn’t just arrived, I would probably ask you to help her with the situation, but Faith has agreed to go.”

Spike’s face darkened. “Buffy—”

“Please believe me when I tell you that this has nothing to do with Buffy, or any desire to keep you two apart,” Giles assured him. “Far from it. The problem is that we’re seeing more and more demonic activity, and we do not have enough people trained to deal with it.”

Spike nodded slowly. “And I’m one of them.”

“You’re one of the most capable warriors we have, Spike.” Giles’ tone was almost apologetic. He glanced at Dawn and sighed. She wasn’t sure where he was going until he said, “I must apologize for my actions in Sunnydale. I’m afraid I greatly misjudged you. I realize that there isn’t anything I can say or do to make it up to you, but—”

“No, it’s alright,” Spike said quickly. “We all bollocks things up.”

Giles nodded, apparently relieved. “Thank you.”

Spike looked thoughtful, and Dawn noticed that the wariness had left his eyes. “Where do you need me, Rupert?”

The Watcher smiled slightly. “I rather think that Buffy would kill me if I didn’t send you along as soon as possible,” he replied. “It’s likely that she’ll need you, but—”

“You can’t promise that we’ll be in the same place.” Spike’s expression was wry. “That’s a bit of irony.”

“I suppose it is,” Giles acknowledged. “Today, however, I understand that you are short on supplies. I’ll send Dawn out with you. You’ll likely need something more than what you’re currently wearing. Before you leave tonight, I’d also like you to meet with the head of the coven. Willow said she sent the amulet back with you, and I’d like her to examine it.”

“Yeah, sure.” Spike looked a little uncomfortable, and Dawn thought she understood why. It was probably for the same reason that Buffy hated to talk about her resurrection. Coming back from the dead was never fun.

~~~~~

Spike didn’t know how he felt about all of this. He appreciated that Giles was trying to help him, but he felt as though he was being moved around like a pawn on a chessboard.

Then again, he hadn’t been in control of his own destiny from the moment the Initiative put the chip in his head. From that moment on, he’d been on a path that had nothing to do with what he wanted, but Spike was beginning to believe that it might turn out after all.

Assuming he and Buffy both survived the next set of emergencies.

“You okay?” Dawn asked. The sky above them was a solid gray, and Giles had it on very good authority that the clouds wouldn’t lift anytime soon, allowing them to get their shopping done without Spike risking incineration.

He shrugged. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

“You’ve been really quiet.”

“Just thinkin’ is all.” He let the silence hang, then added, “Doesn’t quite feel like I’m in control of things.”

“None of us are,” Dawn replied. “I know that Buffy feels the same way. She really wanted to go to Brazil.”

Spike nodded. He supposed that he and the Slayer were very much alike in that their lives were not their own. They belonged to the fight, their duty was to the greater good. “Guess so.”

“At least you’re going to Osmotherley.” There was a touch of bitterness in her voice. “I’m stuck here in Bath, and I probably will be forever.”

Spike glanced over at her. “I thought you were needed here.”

“I am, but it’s not the same,” Dawn replied. “Buffy and the other Slayers and Watchers get to travel, but I’m stuck trying to finish high school. Not that it’s started yet, and I’ll probably be a year behind everybody my age, but—”

“Education is important,” Spike intoned, knowing that Buffy would say the same.

Dawn stared at him. “Why? I’m never going to be anything other than a Watcher, Spike. There’s no point in me learning anything but demon languages and as much about fighting evil as I can. If there was still a Watcher’s Academy, that’s where I would want to go, but Buffy won’t hear of it, and Giles won’t go against her.”

Spike sensed that he could easily be pulled into the middle on this one, which was not a place he wanted to be. “If there’s not a Watcher’s Academy, why not go to school, Nibblet?” The old nickname slipped out before he could stop it, but he saw the smile that curved her lips.

“There’s no point to it, and Buffy wants me to go to college, too.”

“Think you can put your foot down on that,” he pointed out. “You’ll be old enough by then.”

“I want to be old enough now.” She pointed. “Let’s go in there.”

It was another men’s clothing shop, and Spike stifled a sigh. Spike had tried to convince her that all he needed was another pair of black jeans and a few black t-shirts, but Dawn wasn’t having any of it. “You’ll need a new coat anyway,” she’d said, and then proceeded to insist on a number of garments that Spike wouldn’t have chosen if he’d been on his own.

“Buffy is so going to owe me,” Dawn said, leading him into the store.

“How’s that?”

Dawn just smirked. “Come to think of it, you’re going to owe me, too.”

Spike frowned. “What are you talking about, Bit?”

“She’ll take one look at you, and she’ll be all over you,” Dawn promised. “Trust me.”

He shrugged, deciding that he didn’t actually have to wear anything that she insisted on buying for him, and he wasn’t paying for it. “I’d rather have weapons.”

“Giles will take care of that,” Dawn replied confidently. “That’s one thing that we don’t have a shortage of.” She grabbed a couple of long-sleeved t-shirts and shoved them into his arms. “Here. Those should work, right? I think we’re supposed to be getting back soon.”

“I’ve got plenty, Dawn,” he said with some amusement. “Think I told you that three stores back.”

She waved off his protests. “There are fighting clothes, and then there are other kinds of clothes. If you take my sister out to dinner, you’ll need both.”

“You seem awful sure that we’re goin’ to be dating,” he observed.

Dawn’s expression grew uncertain. “Don’t you want to?”

“Yeah, sure, but Buffy—”

“No, it’s not going to be Buffy pulling back this time.” Dawn’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not going to hurt her.”

It was a statement, not a question, and Spike wasn’t sure how to respond. “These things don’t always work out, pet,” he said gently. “With what happened between us…”

“I told you she cried for you,” Dawn said. She searched his face, then sighed. “I guess you’ll see for yourself. We’re good, though, right?”

Spike was reminded of the conversation they’d had when he’d been hiding her from Glory in the tunnels below his crypt, when she’d wanted reassurance that she wasn’t evil. “We’re good, Bit. You’ll just have to give your sister an’ me some time.”

She raised an eyebrow skeptically, but shrugged. “Okay. Suit yourself. Let’s get out of here. The head of the coven will probably be there already.”

~~~~~

Giles ushered Miriam into the study. As much as he liked the woman, she intimidated the hell out of him; her aura of power was unmistakable, and he knew she could turn him into a toad without effort. “Thank you for coming.”

“I thought it was time for us to touch base,” she replied. “And I want to meet this souled vampire of yours.”

“He’s quite remarkable.” Giles’ smile was rueful. “Unfortunately, I didn’t recognize that fact in time.”

Miriam made a thoughtful sound. “Perhaps, but he is a vampire, and the Council was never very good at exploring the shades of gray. I’m sure that you’re aware of that.”

“I hope we do a better job of that in the future.” Giles glanced around the study. “Although, we have yet to decide on a direction for the new Council, or the Academy. We’re simply lucky to have a place to use as a base of operations.”

Miriam raised her eyebrows. “Why not continue the Academy? Train Watchers and Slayers side-by-side; that will engender respect in each for the other.”

“We’ve thought about that option,” he admitted. “Unfortunately, we don’t have the teachers that we would need.”

“Something can be done about that. The coven can help you there, as can the Watchers coming in.”

“We have perhaps a half dozen of those, and we need them in the field.”

Miriam shook her head. “Send the younger ones. Most of those in their last year, or next to last year, are well-trained enough. They can receive experience in the field. If they survive, they’ll be that much better.”

Giles knew that she had a point. He’d already sent young Bertrand, but that was because Xander had needed someone who could do research, work magic, and speak the local languages. The boy had been the only choice.

He leaned back in his chair, considering his options. “We have perhaps fifteen who might be ready and willing to go,” he finally said. “They’re all over sixteen, at least.”

“And the others?”

Giles took off his glasses. “We have twenty who may be ready in the next year or two if given the proper training, but we simply do not have the resources for the younger ones.”

“You do not need your traditional Watchers, Rupert,” Miriam reminded him. “In the past, one man or woman was in charge of the Slayer. At this point, you need soldiers for a war, and what they need most is enough training so they may keep themselves and others alive.”

Her words were blunt, but she was right, of course. Giles knew that everything had changed once the spell had been performed. The landscape of the world had been irrevocably altered. In the past, training Watchers had as much to do with weeding out those ill-suited to train a Slayer—at least in theory—as it did preparing them to deal with the sort of issues they faced now.

“And finding the Slayers?” he asked. “We’ve been having some trouble with that, and the Demos have been systematically hunting down new Slayers.”

“That’s what I wanted to discuss with you,” Miriam replied. “Good and evil have always fought for dominance, Rupert, but they have largely remained in balance. The influx of Slayers has disrupted that balance, and it appears that we’ll be seeing more demonic activity than we might have otherwise.”

“But most of our Slayers are barely more than children.” He knew that his protest was futile; Slayers had always been regarded as warriors for the light, and the potential was there.

Miriam didn’t respond, instead turning towards the doorway where Spike and Dawn stood. He had no idea how long they’d been listening, but it didn’t matter. Everything he had been discussing with the head of the coven was also information that they would need.

“Dawn, you’ve met Miriam. Spike, this is the head of the coven.” He watched as the witch put out her hand, which Spike took after a moment’s hesitation.

Giles wasn’t prepared for what happened next; Miriam seized his hand in both of hers, and her eyes went glassy. “Fate rests heavily on you.” She seemed to be looking right through him. “But your soul burns brightly. You will walk a dark road indeed before the end; be true to your calling, and it will turn out right.”

She slumped, and Spike immediately moved to support her with his free hand, leading her to a seat in the chair. As soon as she was settled, he moved away quickly, as though her touch had burned him. “Forgive me,” Miriam murmured. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Nor was I,” Giles replied, giving Spike a thoughtful look. “How was your shopping expedition?”

“Good,” Dawn answered when the vampire remained silent. “It was the perfect day for shopping with a vampire.”

“When am I leaving?” Spike asked. Giles could tell that he was very uncomfortable in the presence of the witch. “Thought you said it was a bit of an emergency.”

“From what Buffy has said, they’re having trouble locating the item of power.”

“William will not have the same trouble.” Miriam gave him a piercing look. “In fact, he knows exactly where it is.”

Spike shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“You have been in this town before,” she replied. “A number of years ago, with your sire, Drusilla, and Angelus.”

Spike shook his head and began to say something, then stopped abruptly. “That’s—bugger me.”

Giles’ eyebrows went up. “What do you know about this, Spike?”

“Didn’t know that I knew anythin’, so don’t get your knickers twisted,” he snapped. “An’ I don’t know _exactly_ where it is. Dru did, an’ Angelus wanted it, but I never came close.”

Giles frowned. “But what is it? The coven hasn’t been able to tell us much more than the fact that it is important and immensely powerful.”

Miriam shrugged, clearly unfazed by his unspoken reproach. “I told you that I would bring more information today. I knew I would get information; I didn’t know that I would get it from William.”

“It’s Spike,” the vampire growled. “An’ I told you. I don’t have that much information.”

“Spike,” Giles said, keeping his voice gentle. “Whatever you know could be helpful for us.”

He sighed. “Angelus seemed to think that it was a bowl, but not just any bowl—one used by seers that would always give a true seeing, whether you had the gift or not. Dru usually saw somethin’ of the future, but she wasn’t clear most of the time.”

“That would be a prize,” Giles murmured.

“It would also be immensely helpful in marshalling our forces and locating Slayers,” Miriam observed. “And it could be used in the same way by others, only to harm our cause.”

Spike frowned. “I don’t remember much about it,” he admitted. “I wasn’t much involved in looking for it, an’ we got run out of town before they found it.”

“You know where it was supposed to be located,” Miriam said softly. “And you will help Buffy to find it.”

“I’ll do everythin’ I can,” Spike promised. “Of course.”

“The coven will do what it can for you, William,” Miriam said, speaking only to him. “When you return to Bath, we will have something to help you.”

He shrugged his shoulders uncomfortably. “I can take care of myself.”

“Not this time, I think.” She leaned back in her chair. “But we have time before the darkness encroaches too far.”

Giles didn’t like the sound of that, and he couldn’t help but feel sorry for the vampire, who was apparently going to be in the center of the battle once again.


	7. Osmotherley, England

**“…I still haven’t seen him, but I think he’s going to arrive today. The waiting has been tough, but we’ve been busy trying to find whatever artifact it is. The girls have been good sports, and everyone has been getting along for once. I wish all the Slayers were this good about the job…” ~Excerpt from an email from Buffy Summers to Xander Harris**

“You know, if this place had more stuff to do, this would almost be a vacation,” Vi observed.

Audra raised her eyebrows, clearly unconvinced. “If you were dead, maybe.”

“Spike would be bored out of his mind,” Buffy observed. “So it wouldn’t be all that much fun for the dead, either.” She saw the girls exchange a look. “Have I been talking about Spike too much?”

“Only every five minutes,” Audra replied. “So, when are we going to meet this guy?”

“As soon as he gets here.” Buffy rose and went to the window. “We’re not going to be able to wait much longer. We need to find that bowl.”

“Before anyone else does,” Vi added, clearly having heard it all before. “We’ll get it, Buffy.”

“Giles said that Spike had specialized information,” Buffy said. “Maybe he’ll be able to speed up the process.”

Vi spread herself out over the couch. “What are you guys going to do after this?”

“What do you mean?”

“You and Spike. You gonna work together? Maybe partner up?”

Buffy swallowed. “I don’t know what’s going to happen after this.”

“One day at a time, right?” Audra said. “That’s all you can do.”

Audra had lost her Watcher as a result of the Bringers’ rampage, and Buffy knew that she was speaking from experience. “Yeah, I guess so.”

There was a frantic pounding on the front door. Audra was closest, and she leapt up to answer, a stake in hand. Buffy recognized who it was and the problem at the same moment. “Come in, Spike,” she called.

The smoking vampire dashed inside and patted out the embers of his smoldering jacket. “Thanks,” he said, sounding a little distracted. Spike’s blond hair was mussed, and he looked anywhere but at Buffy. “That was a bit close.”

“I noticed that we needed milk,” Vi announced out of the blue. “I’m going to run and get that.”

“I’ll go with you,” Audra said.

Vi smiled at him as she left. “Good to see you again, Spike.”

“Nice to meet you,” the other Slayer echoed. Then the door was shut, and it was just the two of them.

“Guess they weren’t all that thrilled about me being here,” Spike mumbled.

“They wanted to give us some time alone,” Buffy corrected him gently. “Do you have anything else?”

“It’s out in the car. Your Watcher hired a driver for the trip.”

“I’ll go grab it.” She wasn’t sure why this was so hard. It hadn’t been this way when she’d come back from the dead—but then again, it had been Spike who had known what to do. Buffy found it easier to grab his bag from the trunk; she’d always been better at taking action.

When she came back inside, she found Spike seated on the couch, elbows on knees, hands dangling. “Do you want me here, Buffy?”

“What?”

“Do you want me here?” he repeated. “According to your Watcher, there are a lot of other places in the world where I could help out. If you don’t want me here—”

Buffy felt a sudden burst of rage. “You stupid vampire! I told you I loved you.”

“Yeah, I know, but—”

“Shut up.” Buffy dropped his bag on the floor, not caring whether there might be anything fragile or breakable in it. Her hands found his shoulders, and she shoved him back into the couch cushions. “I don’t know what the hell I have to do to convince you.”

“Buffy, maybe—”

She had no idea what he was going to say, and at the moment she didn’t care. Buffy brought her lips to his with the same desperation that she’d felt the first time around. Straddling his hips, she knelt on the cushions. Moving from his mouth to his cheekbones to the pale skin of his neck, Buffy whispered, “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” he gasped as her right hand slipped under his shirt. “What—are you sure?”

She nipped him gently. “Does this feel like I’m not sure?”

“No, guess it doesn’t.” He gently pushed her away. “Thought we had a job to do.”

Buffy leaned back, pouting. “We can’t do our job until the girls get back.”

Spike’s eyebrow went up. “They’ll likely be back any minute.”

“I’ve got a bedroom,” Buffy said, hoping to tempt him.

A smile played around his lips. “An’ what lesson will that teach them?”

“To take some time for yourself when you can.” She rose from the couch, pulling him after her. “Come on.”

“The bowl—”

“We’ve got time for a quickie.” She tugged on him harder. “Maybe two, if they don’t hurry.”

Spike hesitated. “I’m interested, luv, but this thing—Rupert seemed to think it was pretty important.”

Buffy looked him right in the eyes. “Spike, if we’d been together when I died, and I came down the stairs, what would you have done?”

He smiled. “Shagged you silly.”

“And if there had been an apocalypse coming?”

“I’d have made it quick.” He pressed a hard kiss to her lips. “Point made, Buffy.”

She pulled him closer. “God, I missed this. I missed _you_.”

“Never would have guessed,” he teased, pushing her backwards into her bedroom and kicking the door shut behind him. “But I have to say, if you’re goin’ to greet me this enthusiastically, maybe I should die more often.”

“Don’t even say that,” she ordered. “Because if you die again, I’m going to resurrect you, and then kick your ass. That’s a promise.”

“You can kick my ass any time you want.”

She turned them, pushing him down on the bed. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then you won’t.”

And then they were both lost in each other.

~~~~~

“Do you think we should knock?” Audra asked.

Vi shot her a look. “Are you crazy? If I were Buffy, I’d kill anybody who interrupted my reunion, especially if that guy was as hot as Spike.”

“You know, I’d heard the stories, but I thought that they were exaggerated.”

“What? About him being hot?”

“Yeah.” Audra smiled. “Sex on two legs, or something.”

“Definitely not a lie.”

Buffy emerged from her bedroom. “You know he can hear you, right?”

Vi flushed. “Yeah. I always forget about that.”

“Did you two have a nice reunion?” Audra asked.

Buffy smirked. “We definitely reconnected.”

Vi coughed, clearly caught between embarrassment and amusement at her double entendre. “So, um, what next?”

“We find this bowl thingy, and go home,” Buffy replied. “Spike said he thought he had an idea of how to find it.”

“How is that?” Audra asked.

“I’ve been here before.” Spike exited the room, looking rather smug. “It was a long time ago, an’ I don’t know if it’s even in the same place, but there’s a chance anyway.”

“When were you here?” Vi knew it had to be from before his Sunnydale days. She knew enough of his history to guess at that much.

He looked at Buffy when he replied. “Before Angel got his soul. He heard about a seeing bowl, an’ decided that between that an’ Dru’s visions, he’d be able to rule the world. Lucky for all of us, he didn’t succeed.”

“Why not?” Audra asked.

Spike smiled a little sheepishly. “Because I didn’t know how to keep a low profile. I never got close to the bloody bowl, but I remember Dru goin’ on about it. Should help narrow our search.”

Buffy nodded, suddenly all business. “Do you have the map, Vi?”

She grabbed the map, which laid out the entire village of Osmotherley, small as it was. Vi knew that her father would have loved visiting, as it was packed with history. She’d always been more interested in the present, but now that she was a Slayer, she was finding out just how influential the past could be.

Once it was spread out over the kitchen table, they all leaned over it. “Right,” Spike began. “From what I remember, there aren’t many places it could be. Angelus seemed to think that the Church had confiscated it sometime before we arrived, which would have been in the 1880’s. Couldn’t tell you the exact year right now.”

“There aren’t that many locations that date back before that time period,” Audra observed. “So, he might have been right. Most of the buildings went up early on in the 19th century.”

Vi nodded. “That helps a lot actually. We’ve been wandering around, trying to ask questions about any mysterious religious artifacts, but that hasn’t gotten us anywhere. If you’re right, there are only two places it could be: Lady Chapel and the Mount Grace Priory.”

“Which is in the best condition?” Spike asked.

“Both are in decent shape, although the Priory also has ruins and a museum.” Vi saw the looks everyone was giving her. “What? You asked me to gather information. This place isn’t that big.”

Spike sat down in one of the chairs, his head tilted back, clearly trying to remember. “If I’m rememberin’ this right, Angelus grabbed one of the monks, who didn’t know anything. Angelus thought the monk was lyin’, but Dru said that he was telling the truth.”

“That puts us right back at square one,” Buffy observed.

“Not necessarily,” Spike said. “Just because _he_ didn’t know anything about it, doesn’t mean that it wasn’t in the Priory, or hidden somewhere else.”

There was a long pause, then Buffy spoke. “We could ask Angel.”

Spike just looked at her. Vi caught the expression on his face and thought that she’d never seen anyone look quite so disgusted with an idea. “Would he even remember?” she asked. “That was a long time ago.”

“Maybe we can use that as a last resort?” Audra suggested tentatively.

Spike rubbed his eyes. “Dunno. Might make things go faster.”

“He probably won’t know any more than you do,” Buffy finally said. “It was a long time ago.”

His eyes narrowed. “I think I have an idea.”

Vi smiled. She had a feeling that this was going to get interesting.

~~~~~

Buffy knew that she’d taken a chance by suggesting that she call Angel for help; Spike was sensitive about her relationship with the other vampire, and rightly so. He _had_ seen them kissing the last time they’d been together.

Spike’s idea had merit, though. The elderly generally had long memories, and his suggestion that they find the oldest (and loneliest) person in the village was likely to net some results. Of course, finding someone who had stories of the old days, and getting them to talk, were two different things, and it was that last that Buffy wasn’t so sure about.

That was where Spike’s plan came in.

“You got it?” Buffy asked Vi and Audra as they slipped inside.

“Everything you’ll need,” Audra promised. “Birth records, death records—all of it. You could probably convince anybody that Spike is from the area.”

“That my family was,” he corrected her, coming out of the bedroom Buffy had been using. It was definitely _their_ bedroom now, something that pleased her to no end. “No one would believe that I was from around here. I look too young.”

Buffy noticed that his accent was different, a little more polished. “Are you—”

“It’s all part of the disguise, luv,” he said with a smile. “Young men move away from these sorts of places all the time to make their fortune. We just need to be sure that the story is plausible, and that there are no living relatives.”

Vi grinned. “That’s what we’ve got. Mr. Arnold Mead moved out of Osmotherley in 1923 to make his fortune in London. Whatever family he had in the area has either died or moved away, so you should be safe.”

“And who are we?” Buffy asked, looking Spike up and down. If she hadn’t known better, she might have said that he was a young professional on vacation, with his blue jeans, gray t-shirt, and leather jacket. The bleached hair might call his identity into question, but she thought he pulled it off nicely anyway.

Audra flashed her a quick grin. “You are Mr. and Mrs. William Mead in from London, trying to trace your illustrious ancestry.”

“A bit less than illustrious,” Spike commented. “An’ Buffy had better be my American wife. She can’t do a British accent to save her life.”

“I can so!” When all three of them looked at her, she shrugged. “But it’s probably safer not to try. There’s just one problem with that. No rings.” She wiggled her left ring finger for emphasis.

Audra reached up behind her neck to remove the chain she wore around her neck. Buffy had noticed that she wore it, but not what was on it. The younger Slayer slid off two rings and held them out. “See if those will fit.”

There was a pause as Buffy took them, knowing who they had likely belonged to in the past. “Your parents?” she asked softly.

She shook her head. “My Watcher and his wife.” Shrugging, she added, “It was the same thing, really.”

Buffy slid the woman’s ring on and found it to be a little too big. “I think I saw some tape,” Vi said.

The man’s ring slid onto Spike’s ring finger without any trouble, and he glanced over at Audra. “Ta, luv. I’m honored.”

The simple statement was obviously what Audra had needed to hear, because she smiled and nodded. “It completes the disguise, right? He’d approve.”

Vi returned from the kitchen with a roll of tape and set about carefully wrapping a piece around the back of the band. “That should take care of it.”

Buffy slid it on and decided that it would do. “Do we know who we’re seeing?”

“An old neighbor of the Meads, or her daughter. She’s pretty ancient,” Vi said. “She should be willing to talk to you. From what we could gather, Mrs. Burns doesn’t have any relatives in the area.”

“Hence, old and lonely,” Buffy observed.

Audra raised her eyebrows. “I wouldn’t mention that to her.”

“I think I can be smoother than that,” Spike said.

~~~~~

Spike was fully prepared to turn on his charm full watt to get them in the door, but the elderly woman opened the door wide to let them in almost immediately. “It’s so wonderful when young people take interest in their ancestry.”

“I’ve always wanted to see where my granddad came from,” Spike replied. “It’s been a dream of mine for years.”

Mrs. Burns smiled. “Well, come in and sit down, you two. Would you like tea?”

“That would be great, Mrs. Burns,” Buffy replied, taking the proffered seat next to Spike.

“Can I help you with that?” he asked.

She waved them off. “No, no. The day I can’t make a pot of tea for visitors is the day they bury me, but I will take your assistance with the tray when it’s ready.”

“My pleasure,” Spike replied, then leaned over to whisper in Buffy’s ear. “Think we may have hit the jackpot, pet.”

“We can hope,” she murmured.

“William? Would you mind giving me a hand?” Mrs. Burns called from the kitchen.

Spike went in to help her and found the kitchen neat as a pin in a cheery blue and yellow. “You have a nice home, Mrs. Burns.”

“Thank you,” she replied. “I’ve had it for quite a while.” When he took the tray, she gave him a sharp look. “I’ve been waiting for the two of you, you know.”

He swallowed his surprise. “What?”

“I’ve been waiting,” she replied. “And I’m quite tired. It will be good to hand my charge over to someone younger.” The woman gave him a sly smile. “Or perhaps I should say someone stronger.”

“You knew?”

“As soon as I saw you, my dear,” she replied. “I’ve been waiting to get rid of this for a long time now, ever since I saw you in the water.”

“The bowl? You have it?”

“Of course, but let’s go talk to that lovely Slayer of yours.” She led the way back into the living room, and Spike set the tray down on the coffee table. “There now. We’ll have a cozy chat.”

Buffy was staring at both of them with wide eyes. “Wait. It can’t be that easy.”

Mrs. Burns sniffed. “Do you honestly think it was easy, keeping that bowl a secret all these years? We’ve had to make sure that no one even suspected that we were the ones who had it.”

“‘We?’” Buffy asked.

“Friends of mine.” Mrs. Burns poured the tea for them. “Sugar or milk?”

“None for me.” Spike picked up his cup, looking askance at the delicate china. He hated drinking out of teacups. He was always afraid of breaking things like this. “Are your friends around?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m afraid that I’m the last of them. As I said, I’m growing weary, and I wouldn’t have been able to hold onto it much longer. I had been making plans to store it somewhere safe.”

“I don’t understand,” Buffy said. “We’ve been looking for this bowl for the last few days, and you had it the entire time?”

Mrs. Burns gave her a soft smile. “I was waiting for the two of you to come to me. I knew you would.”

“The bowl,” Spike said slowly. “They said you could see things in it.”

“You can see everything in it,” Mrs. Burns replied. “Everything you need to see, anyway. It can be a great tool—or a great weapon.”

“And you’ve had it this entire time?” Buffy asked.

“Not me,” Mrs. Burns replied. “There’s a circle of us who have kept it safe. The church doesn’t know about us, of course, but it doesn’t mean we aren’t good Christians. No, indeed. We just believe that there are a number of ways to fight the darkness.” Her smile was reminiscent of one of his smirks. “The church doesn’t know everything.”

Spike chuckled, sensing a kindred spirit in the older woman. She seemed like a rebel, and he could respect that. “Have to thank you for keepin’ it safe then.”

“Nonsense. I didn’t do it for you. I did it for the future of the world.” She rose from her seat. “Wait here, and I’ll get it.”

“That was too easy,” Buffy said as she disappeared into a different area of the house.

He shrugged. “Makes sense, though. Angelus couldn’t find it because they were tryin’ to hide it, and you couldn’t find it until we came to get it together.”

She made a face. “I was expecting to face some big battle to get it.”

“This is easier.”

“No kidding, but I don’t do easy.”

“This time we are doin’ it the easy way. Makes for a nice change in my mind.”

“Nice, but I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“Maybe it won’t this time.” Spike didn’t believe that any more than Buffy did. “Even if it does, though, I’ll be happy for one easy job.”

“Good point.”

“Here it is,” Mrs. Burns announced. She held a large, silver bowl in her hands. Spike couldn’t begin to interpret the intricate symbols worked into the metal, but he had no doubt that there was meaning to be read there. She set it down on the table next to the tea tray. “It has been quite useful, I’ll admit, although not nearly as useful as the rumors make it out to be. You can see a lot, but not always what you want.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Spike asked.

The elderly woman smiled. “It shouldn’t.”

“Then what’s the big deal?” Buffy asked. “If you can’t see what you want, what’s the point?”

Mrs. Burns shook her head. “You may not see what you want, but you will see what you need to know, ducks.” She leaned across the table from her seat to pat Buffy’s hand. “I realize that might be frustrating, but it’s worked quite nicely for me to date. After all, you’re here, aren’t you?”

Spike nodded, but he wasn’t sure what that was supposed to prove. They might have found the bowl, but that seemed to be the least of their concerns with what was coming.


	8. Bulawayo, Zimbabwe, Africa

**“…At least the trip to Zimbabwe was made without a lot of trouble. Corey and Nàtali have been great sports. I think that Nàtali is thrilled by the idea that she might get another Slayer to train with. I haven’t had the heart to tell her that the new girl might not want to train with her…” ~Excerpt from an email from Xander Harris to Willow Rosenberg**

“When will we see her?” Nàtali asked impatiently. “I’ve been waiting _forever_.”

“You’ve been waiting three days, kiddo,” Xander replied, touched that she was hanging onto his hand. She seemed to look up to him like she would a big brother, and he couldn’t say that he minded. It was one of the reasons he missed Dawn as much as he did.

She stared up at him. “It will be nice not to be the only Slayer.”

He and Corey had had their first real disagreement over whether or not to break the news to Nàtali that the girl might not be coming back with them. In a way, it didn’t matter what the girl wanted, if her parents were against her receiving training as a Slayer. Xander wanted to let her hang onto the dream a little longer; Corey wanted to break the news gently before Nàtali met her.

As the senior Watcher, he had won, but he still wasn’t sure that it was a good thing.

Impulsively, Xander bent down, ignoring the passers by giving him strange looks—the foreigner with an eye patch, bending to look an African girl in the eyes. “You know her parents may not be okay with her coming with us, right?”

Her expression was troubled. “I know, Xander, but she is my sister. She is a Slayer.”

“Yeah, she is,” he agreed, rising and pulling her into a quick hug. He felt a rush of affection for her. “Don’t worry about it, Nat. Corey’s pretty persuasive.”

“Sorry about that,” Corey said, stepping outside their hotel. “The message seemed urgent.”

Xander frowned. “What happened?”

She shrugged. “It was just Miles, letting us know that the new Watcher arrived safely, and that they were attacked by another assassin demon.”

He didn’t like the sound of that. “Was anyone hurt?”

“No. Apparently Whit, for all his faults, can shoot a weapon.”

“Whit?”

“The new Watcher.” She smiled. “After hearing his full name, can you blame him?”

“Not at all,” Xander replied. He put a hand on Nàtali’s shoulder. “Come on. My source tells me they’re only going to be at home for another hour or so.”

~~~~~

Corey was glad they had decided to bring Nàtali with them; she’d been thrilled with her first airplane ride, and her face had been pressed against the window the entire flight. She couldn’t help but think that they made up an odd sort of family, and she wondered what outsiders might think.

She smiled inwardly. They were a family, of course. The Watchers and Slayers were connected, united in a common purpose—at least, that was the goal. Whether or not they would reach it had yet to be seen.

The house that the missionaries lived in was close to the university. Corey knew that during the term, rooms in the area would be packed with students, but they had arrived during the summer holiday, and the suburb was quiet.

Xander gave her a look and a lopsided, hopeful smile, then knocked on the door. It swung open to reveal a tired-looking man in his early forties, his dark hair and beard liberally sprinkled with gray. “Come in. You must be Xander Harris.”

“That’s me,” he replied, then stepped aside to allow Nàtali to precede him. “This is Nàtali, one of our Slayers, and Corey.”

“Paul Brunner,” he replied. The man looked at Corey. “I believe I met your father quite some time ago.”

Corey swallowed and managed a smile. “Really?”

“Yes, when I was spending some time with my cousin.” Paul ushered them all into the living room. “My wife and daughter are out. I wanted to speak with you alone.”

Corey took a seat on the couch, feeling Nàtali’s hand slip into hers almost immediately. She knew that Xander was just as uncomfortable as she was, probably because Paul didn’t seem terribly welcoming, although he certainly wasn’t hostile.

“You know why we’re here?” Xander asked.

Paul laughed shortly. “How could I not know? My daughter is now stronger than I am, and her dreams are waking all of us up at night.”

“It is a part of being a Slayer,” Corey said gently. “I’m sure you know this.”

“My wife doesn’t believe it,” he said irritably, then seemed to think better of it. “Forgive me. The last few weeks have been very difficult for all of us.”

Xander looked sympathetic. “I’m sorry, Mr. Brunner. I know you refused to get training for your daughter before, but I don’t think you have that option now.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t believe my cousin. How could he know that she was some sort of potential warrior? And suddenly—” Paul broke off. “My wife is still not sold on the idea of Emily going to school anywhere else.”

“What does Emily think?” Corey asked, wanting to focus the conversation on the most important point. If Emily did want to go with them, she and Xander had decided to find a way to make that happen, whatever her parents might say.

Paul looked at Xander. “Can you help her?”

“I can’t change the fact that she’s a Slayer now,” Xander replied honestly. “If that’s what you’re asking.”

“No, can you _help_ her?” His voice was urgent. “The nightmares are so bad, and she told me that she feels like a freak.”

The sound of the front door opening reached their ears. “Hello? Are you home?”

Corey got the sense that he was trying to communicate something to them with a look, but she had no idea what it might be. “We’re in here, Tina.”

The woman who entered the room was about the same age as her husband, her skin tanned and lined. She had the same weary look about her that he wore, and although she was casually dressed, Corey sensed that this was a woman for whom appearances were very important.

Emily should have had the same kind of vibrancy about her that Corey had seen in the other Slayers they’d found. Even the two who had elected not to come to the school, who had denied that they had been Chosen, had had a fire about them. This girl looked haunted, almost faded; even her freckles seemed dull against pale skin.

Paul quickly made the introductions, then looked at his wife. “You remember what Al told us. It was all true.”

“It’s impossible,” she snapped. “I don’t believe it.”

“Do you not believe in good and evil, Mrs. Brunner?” Corey asked.

“Of course I do,” Tina replied. “But that doesn’t mean that my daughter is some warrior. Paul’s cousin was mixed up in witchcraft and sorcery; she has no part in that.”

“Xander is not a sorcerer!” Nàtali burst out. It was the first time she’d spoken since coming into the home. She spoke rapidly in Afrikaans, as she often did when excited or upset.

Corey translated. “She says that she is not touched by darkness but by light.” She smiled at the young girl. “She says that they are sisters.”

“No.” Tina’s voice was flat. “I won’t allow this. Paul—”

“Mom. No.” Emily’s voice was faint, but she seemed to gain strength. “I want to hear what they have to say.”

“Darling, you’re tired and overheated,” Tina said. “Maybe you should—”

“You can’t protect me from this anymore.” Emily moved away from her, towards her father. “What did Al tell you about me?” she asked. “Does he know why I’m having the nightmares?”

Xander cleared his throat. “They’re Slayer dreams, Emily. My best friend had them for years. She still has them sometimes.”

“Is what I’m seeing real?” she asked, taking a cautious step closer.

Nàtali piped up again, speaking in English this time. “Do you dream of a rip in the sky? With a dragon?”

Corey could see Emily swallow hard. “Yeah. And vampires that come out of the ground.”

“Monsters that creep up on you at night,” Nàtali added. “Yes. I’ve seen those things.”

“This is ridiculous!” Tina said, her voice rising. To Corey it sounded as though she was approaching hysteria. “They can’t be having the same dreams. It’s a mere coincidence. Emily has always liked fantasy a little too much, and that’s all this is.”

“No, it isn’t!” Emily shouted, color blooming in her cheeks. “I’m freakishly strong, Mom. You know that. I changed six weeks ago, and I can’t go back to who I was.”

Paul went to his wife. “Come on, Tina. Let’s go.”

“I’m not leaving her alone with these people,” Tina replied desperately. “Surely you can see this, Paul. They can’t help our daughter. We have furlough coming up. There are good doctors in the States. Psychiatrists—”

“Will only make things worse,” Xander interrupted smoothly. “Trust me. Like I said, my best friend has gone through the same thing. Her mom checked her into a mental institution for a while, and it didn’t change anything.”

Paul’s voice was very gentle. “Come on, Tina. Let Emily talk to them for a little while. Maybe they can help.”

He managed to lead her out of the room, and Emily sat down in the chair he’d vacated. “Sorry about that,” she said softly. “Mom’s in denial about this.”

“How are you feeling?” Corey asked. “You look a little pale.”

Emily shook her head. “The nightmares have been really bad. I haven’t been sleeping all that well. And I keep getting cramps all the time.”

Corey caught the look on Xander’s face. “Has anyone tried to come inside your house after dark?” he asked urgently.

“The other night,” she admitted. “Dad wouldn’t let them in. Mom probably would have if she’d been home, but he…” Emily trailed off, understanding in her eyes. “They were vampires. My dad knew.”

“Your father has some connection to the Council of Watchers,” Corey explained. “They’re a group of people who have dedicated their lives to fighting evil and protecting and training the Slayer. That’s what you are now.”

There was hope in her eyes when she looked at them. “Then I’m not evil?”

“What? No!” Xander said forcefully. “What gave you that idea?”

“The dreams.” Emily’s voice was matter-of-fact. “I thought I had to be evil to dream of monsters doing horrible things.”

Corey reached out and took her hands. “Slayers dream of those things so they might stop them from happening.”

Emily pulled back. “I’m not strong enough or brave enough. I can’t—”

“I can show you how,” Nàtali whispered. “Please?”

The girls’ eyes met, and Corey saw something pass between them—the child of American missionaries and the South African orphan. The two had nothing in common but their Calling—and somehow it was enough.

“Okay.” Emily’s chin took on a determined tilt. “I’ll do it. I’ll come.”

~~~~~

In some ways, retrieving this Slayer had been a lot easier, Xander thought. She already had papers and a passport as well as extra clothes and shoes—something Nàtali had not had until she’d come to stay with them. Emily also had parents, however, which seemed to complicate things to no end.

Although Paul had appeared to resign himself to Emily’s decision immediately, Tina was a different story altogether. Not that Xander blamed her; he was proposing to take her daughter hundreds of miles away, to a different country, in the company of people she didn’t know. What’s more, Emily was her youngest, and she’d been ill.

In the end, it came down to two against one. Paul backed Emily’s decision, and Emily—displaying more tenacity than Xander had thought she had—expressed her desire to go clearly and firmly. After that, it was more a matter of soothing Tina’s concerns than anything else.

They made arrangements for Paul to travel down to the school with Emily in a couple of weeks; he wanted to see where she would be staying for himself, and he wanted to make a few phone calls to relatives he believed had survived the First. Xander appreciated his caution, and he wanted to have the school ready before they received any more Slayers.

They left to fly back to South Africa the next morning, and Xander hoped that their reassurances had given Emily the peace of mind she needed to get through the next couple of weeks.

“Glad to be home, kiddo?” Xander asked, looking in the rearview mirror at Nàtali as they drove back to the school from the Pretoria airport.

She nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, but I want to fly again.”

“I’m sure you will, Nat,” he replied, then glanced over at Corey. She’d been quiet during the trip home. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said immediately. “Just tired.”

Xander wasn’t sure he bought that, but he let it slide, not wanting to interrogate her in front of the girl. “I wonder if Miles will be waiting for us.”

“I doubt it. The new Watcher will be, though.”

He’d almost forgotten about that. “I guess he will. I hope he’s not use—” Xander choked on the last word as Corey poked him hard in the ribs, and gave him a meaningful look. He readily interpreted it as a warning not to prejudice the young Slayer against him. “I hope he’s not too tired,” he finished.

Corey shook her head, muttering something under her breath that Xander couldn’t catch, and probably didn’t want to. He had no doubt that it wasn’t very complimentary.

When he parked the Land Rover in front of the building that would soon be the school and dormitory, he saw a young, blond man coming out to greet them. “Hello!” he called.

Xander wasn’t sure what to think. From Giles’ description, he’d expected a younger, tweedier version of the stereotypical Watcher—uptight, buttoned-up, and completely useless in a fight. Instead, he saw what looked like a younger Indiana Jones, _sans_ hat.

Sandy blond hair fell over blue eyes with a studied carelessness that made Xander want to hate him. He was thin, but it was clear from his build that it was only a matter of time before he filled out with the sort of lean musculature that Xander had to work hard to maintain.

In short, however stuffy his name might be, Bertrand Whitney-Jones was exactly the sort of guy Xander had wanted to be at that age.

He gave himself a mental shake, remembering that high school was a long time ago. Xander was now a senior Watcher, in charge of whatever Slayers might be in the area, as well as any others that Giles might send his way.

“Hi, you must be Bertrand,” Xander said, trying to sound as cordial as possible.

“Whit, please,” the younger man insisted. “I have no idea what my parents were thinking when they named me.”

“Whit it is, then,” Corey replied. She conducted the rest of the introductions as Xander unloaded their bags, noticing with ill humor that no one else made any moves to help him. He’d just finished pulling the bags out of the trunk when Nàtali appeared. “I’ll get mine, Xander.”

He smiled. “Thanks, Nat.”

“You’re _my_ Watcher,” she whispered before running into the building.

“I sure am,” he murmured, hefting the two remaining bags, and feeling just a little better.


	9. Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

**“…Faith made it safely, and we’ve been settling in. Kennedy will probably be well enough to travel in the next few days, so if you want to make the arrangements, that would be great. Things have been really tense here between Ken and Zoë. We did manage to locate another Slayer, however, and she’s adjusting well. Now, it’s just a matter of making sure the Demos don’t get to anymore of them…” ~Excerpt from an email from Willow Rosenberg to Rupert Giles**

Willow pushed sweat-soaked hair out of her face. She knew that she’d probably been pushing herself too hard, but the sense of urgency she felt hadn’t diminished, even though they’d been able to successfully locate a third Slayer before the Demos had.

It wasn’t just the Demos, however. There were other demons who knew about the Slayers, and who were all too willing to kill any they could find.

She’d managed to discover three more Slayers, all in South America, although none close by. One of them was going to have to retrieve the girls, but she didn’t know who would be best to go.

“You need to refuel,” Zoë said, coming into the room. “If you keep going like you have been, you’ll wear yourself out completely.”

“It’s important that we find these girls,” Willow responded.

Zoë sat down next to her at the table. “Their deaths are not your fault, Willow.”

She stiffened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Willow—”

“It’s not about that.”

Zoë’s eyes were sympathetic. “I feel as though we ought to develop a strong partnership, and to do that, we must be honest with one another.”

She sighed, knowing that the Watcher was right. “You know that I was the one to resurrect Buffy, right?”

“And therefore was the one to open the door to the First Evil.” Her voice was even. “That does not mean that you’re responsible for each and every death that occurs.” When Willow opened her mouth to reply, Zoë cut her off. “No. There were consequences to your action, but you cannot take on the burdens of the entire world. You’ll do no one any good that way.”

“I guess.”

“There is no guesswork involved,” Zoë replied severely, in her best Watcher voice.

Willow laughed. “It’s been a long time since someone has used their Watcher voice with me.”

“At least you’ll listen to me.” The humor drained out of her face. “I feel as though I’m failing here.”

“Because of Kennedy?” Willow asked, incredulous. “You can’t blame yourself, and you’re doing a great job with Rute and Teresa.”

Zoë sighed. “A Watcher should be able to get along with her Slayer—all of them, in this case.”

“Watchers are people, too,” Willow reminded her. “And there aren’t a lot of people who can get along with Kennedy.”

As though her words had summoned the girl, Kennedy walked through the door, followed closely by Faith, Rute, and Teresa. “I still think we could have taken them,” Kennedy said sourly.

“What? An entire room full of demons? Are you kidding?” Faith asked incredulously. “You’re not even at 100% yet.”

Kennedy’s expression was mulish. “I’m fine.”

Faith moved too quickly for the other Slayer to block the blow, and although Willow knew that the hit was not a hard one, Kennedy’s wince made Faith’s point clear. “Right,” Faith drawled. “You’re fine.”

“Giles sent confirmation for your travel plans, Kennedy,” Willow said, interrupting what was sure to become a nasty argument. “Your flight leaves the day after tomorrow.”

“Good,” she shot back. “It’ll be good to get back.”

She left the room, and the silence that fell wasn’t entirely comfortable. Zoë and Faith still hadn’t decided what they thought of one another, and the other two girls weren’t always able to follow the entire conversation. Teresa’s English was better than Rute’s, but they were both more comfortable with Portuguese or Spanish.

“Are you girls hungry?” Zoë asked lightly, obviously trying to change the subject. “I know I am.”

She led the younger Slayers out of the room, and Faith slumped in the seat the Watcher had just vacated. “Did Giles say when the reinforcements are arriving?”

“A few days,” Willow replied in a low voice. “There were two Watchers and their Slayers who just arrived at headquarters yesterday. All four are trained, and with Zoë here, the language barriers aren’t as great.”

Faith frowned, considering their forces and whether they would have enough people to win the day. “I think it might be better to use guerilla warfare,” she finally said. “We can make quick strikes instead of one frontal attack. If we know where a large number of the Demos are going to be, we can kill quite a few at once without them ever seeing us.”

“You’re going to need magic for that,” Willow pointed out.

“I know.” Faith gave her a sharp look. “And you won’t be any help if you use up all your juice in one place.”

Willow sighed. “I’ve been trying to find more Slayers.”

“Have you?”

“Yeah, but not around here. Someone is going to have to bring them back.”

“Send Zoë and Teresa,” Faith advised. “Watchers are trained for that kind of thing, and you can always tell the parents that their kid has won an all-expenses paid trip to a great school. Teresa can go as a recruiter or whatever.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Willow admitted, impressed with the plan. “The Watchers won’t be here right away. Zoë can probably go and come back before you guys are ready to strike.”

“If I’ve got four others, I’ll be good,” Faith assured her. “We’ll keep the incursions small at first, then work up to a big offense.”

Willow smiled. “Sounds like a plan.” After a moment’s hesitation she added, “I’m glad you could come.”

“I was glad to get out of Dodge for a while,” Faith responded, waving off her gratitude. “Robin was really starting to piss me off.”

“Can I ask what happened?” Willow knew that she might be hitting on a touchy subject. She and Faith had been enemies once upon a time, but that life seemed far in the past. Besides, she knew she wasn’t in a position to cast stones.

Faith shrugged, her body language suggesting that it didn’t matter, but her eyes telling a different story. “Probably the same thing that happened between you and Kennedy. You think you’re building a bond that will last a lifetime, and it turns out that it’s just for the moment.”

Willow didn’t think that she was imagining the regret in the other woman’s voice, and she suspected that the breakup with Wood had affected her more than she wanted to let on. “Yeah. I guess a life or death situation can make everything more intense.”

“Something like that.” Faith rose. “I’m starving, and you look like you could eat, too.”

Willow rose and followed her out, carefully disguising how shaky she was.

~~~~~

Faith had been prepared for a fight. She wasn’t expecting a warm welcome or easy acceptance, although that seemed to be what she’d found. Willow didn’t appear to be holding a grudge, and the others acted as if they didn’t know about her past.

Maybe they didn’t; she wasn’t about to rehash old history.

Although Kennedy had presented something of a problem, Faith knew that it wasn’t personal; the girl was pissed off at the world in general. Faith understood the feeling, and she thought that as the other girl grew more secure in her abilities and her place in the general scheme of things, she’d get less prickly.

Faith was just glad she didn’t have to be around while Kennedy went through that transition.

She wouldn’t have minded tracking down a few Slayers, but she much preferred the idea of fighting demons. It was just too bad that she had to wait for backup.

Idly flipping through the channels, Faith waited for Willow to return from the airport. The Watchers and their Slayers were arriving that afternoon, and they would need to make plans for taking down the Demos. She had a few ideas, but they were dependent on how well she was able to work with the others.

The front door swung open, and Willow came into the apartment, followed closely by four others. Both Watchers were men who seemed to be in their mid- to late-thirties, while the Slayers were probably in their late teens. Faith realized that they’d been lucky to get two of the younger surviving Watchers, as well as two of the older, better trained Slayers.

“Hey, Faith,” Willow said as she came through the door. “This is Arnold Emrys and his Slayer, Rhoda, and Davis Klein and his Slayer, Erna.”

“It’s a pleasure,” she said, remaining seated just to see how they reacted.

“We’ve heard much about you,” Davis said, the expression on his face making it clear that most of what he’d heard hadn’t been complimentary. “You were guarding the Cleveland Hellmouth, yes?”

Faith caught traces of an accent she couldn’t quite place, although his English was flawless. “I was until Willow needed me here,” she replied.

Willow cleared her throat. “Now that you guys have all met, maybe we should get some sleep,” she suggested.

“I slept on the plane,” Davis replied. “I think we should begin to make plans immediately. Once we know what we’re facing, we can move forward.” He turned to Faith. “I assume you’ve done some reconnaissance.”

She shot him a look. “Yeah. I have.”

“At least we have a place to start from,” he remarked, his expression making it obvious that he didn’t think much of her leadership abilities.

“I’m certain that Faith has done everything she could,” Arnold said, clearly trying to make peace before more barbs began to fly. “And while I know we’re tired from traveling, perhaps we _should_ begin to make plans.”

“_Ja_,” Erna said quickly, shooting her Watcher a look that Faith didn’t have any trouble interpreting. Apparently, the German Slayer was ready to shed her watchdog. Interesting. “There are many of these demons, and few of us.”

Rhoda sank gracefully to the floor. “How many are there? We were told it was a demon clan, but those range greatly in size.”

When neither Watcher said anything, Faith began to fill them in on what she’d learned over the last couple of days. “I can’t tell you the exact number, because the only ones I’ve seen are their fighters, and there are probably sixty of those.”

“That sounds about right for a Demos clan,” Arnold said thoughtfully. “When they get much larger, they’ll generally split up, or in-fighting will reduce their numbers.”

Faith nodded, deciding that she liked Arnold. He seemed to know what he was talking about at least, and he hadn’t pissed her off yet, which boded well. “I thought we could pick them off, use guerilla tactics.”

“Wouldn’t a single strike be more effective?” Davis asked.

Erna stared at him. “Did you not hear her? Six against sixty is not favorable odds.”

“With magic, we could kill them all at once,” Davis replied. He looked at Willow. “Surely you could devise a spell that would pinpoint each Demos and strike him down.”

Willow’s eyebrows went up. “Do you have a suggestion for how that might be done?” The witch was clearly not pleased at having her abilities questioned, and Faith couldn’t blame her; she had a feeling that she was going to have to kick his ass before this was all over.

“You’re the great witch,” he replied. “You were the one who activated all the Slayers at once. I thought you would be able to do anything.”

Faith cleared her throat. “She’s a powerhouse, not a goddess,” she said sharply. “And I think you’re forgetting who’s in charge here.”

He sneered. “Oh? And that would be you?”

“No, that would be _us_,” she shot back. “The Slayers. That’s what’s eating you, right? You’re pissed off that you’re not in charge anymore.”

Davis’ eyes sparked with anger. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Let’s call for a vote.” Faith smirked. “Who’s gonna be in charge of this mission?”

“Faith,” Rhoda said.

Erna threw a look at her Watcher. “Faith.”

Arnold rubbed the crease between his eyebrows. “I believe that Faith knows the lay of the land better than any of us, and she has the experience in battle.” He refused to look at the other Watcher as he spoke.

“Faith.” Willow smiled at the Slayer, and Faith sensed that they had made a connection that hadn’t been there before—united against the prick. She could handle that.

“Looks like I’m the leader for this shindig.” Faith’s stare challenged him. “You okay with that, or do you want to be excused?”

The muscle in his jaw jumped. “That’s fine.”

Faith knew that she was going to have trouble with him down the road, but for right now, she decided to let it go. “Fine. We’re going for quick strikes that take out as many Demos as possible without risking our own forces, and we start tonight.”

~~~~~

Zoë followed Teresa through the airport, glancing anxiously at her watch. They didn’t have much time before they were to board their bus, and they had yet to pick up their bags.

She sensed, rather than saw, the blow coming. Zoë didn’t duck; instead, she fell out of the way, the knife missing her by mere centimeters. “Teresa!”

The Slayer didn’t hesitate. Although she hadn’t been training for long, instinct seemed to count for something. Her left foot hit the man in the temple, sending him flying. “Who is he?” she cried in Portuguese.

“I have no idea,” Zoë replied, scrambling to her feet. “Come on. We need to grab our bags.” She caught sight of another two thugs who were moving towards them purposefully. “Never mind. We can come back for them later.”

Ignoring the screams and gasps around them, Zoë grabbed the Slayer’s arm and began to usher her through the airport, heading for the bus depot. “Let’s go. I think it would be best if we lost them.”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Teresa replied. “What if we lead them to the new Slayer?”

Zoë thought of a thousand curses, but none of them seemed potent enough for the situation at hand. She’d been trained to deal with emergencies, but right now she had at least three men who appeared to be intent on killing both of them, for some unknown reason.

There was an outcry behind them, and she glanced over her shoulder to see several men with guns moving to surround their pursuers. “I think we just bought some time.”

Zoë kept a sharp watch for any others who might be following them. The last thing she wanted to do was to lead the men—whoever they were—to a new, untrained Slayer. The girl was likely to be bewildered about her newfound strength and agility, but to add in men who wanted her dead this early in the game was too much.

The bus was already pulling out when Zoë saw one of the men she’d spotted. It was clear that he wasn’t going to be early enough to catch it, giving them a little extra time and protection. She had two more Slayers to find before someone else did.

“When we find the next one, I want you to get her back to Rio,” she told Teresa in a low voice as they rode the swaying bus. It was packed tight with hot, sweaty bodies, but she figured that was for the best. There was little chance that anyone would care what they were saying.

Teresa shook her head vehemently. “No! It is too dangerous for you.”

“I’ll be fine,” she assured her. “It’s the only way to be certain that they’re both protected.”

The Slayer was not convinced. “We came together for a reason—to be safe.”

“We’ll talk about it when we find this girl,” Zoë replied, hoping that when it came down to it, Teresa would follow her directions. She honestly believed that it was the best way of making sure they both stayed alive.


	10. Bath, England

**“…We had three days after we got back from Osmotherley before Giles came up with another emergency. I know his intention isn’t to split us up, but that’s not what it feels like. It’s one thing after another, and Giles keep telling us that we’re the best people for the job…” ~Excerpt from an email from Buffy Summers to Xander Harris**

“It’s not fair,” Buffy muttered, throwing her clothes in her bag. “At least we could go together.”

Spike watched her silently, his forearms resting on the back of the chair he’d spun around to sit on when he came in. She turned to glare at him. “Well?”

“Well what, luv?” he asked. “We talked about this. Two emergencies means two people to deal with them.”

Buffy stared at him. “You know, if you’re not happy being with me, you could just say it.”

“I could, if that’s how I felt,” Spike responded, his tone sharp. “You were the one who was always going on about your sacred duty, an’ now that we’ve both got one, you’re the one complaining that I’m takin’ mine seriously.”

She flushed and sank down on the bed. “I’m sorry, Spike. It’s—I just found you again; I don’t want to lose you.”

“You’re not goin’ to lose me, Buffy.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I don’t know that I won’t lose you again.”

He had a point. They were probably the only two people on the planet who had watched the other die, only to see them alive again. “Yeah.”

Spike rose from his chair, coming over to squeeze her shoulders. “We have our jobs to do, pet, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be together. We’re just goin’ to have to do it over the distance.”

“First things first,” Buffy said, taking a deep breath. “You get a cell phone, and I want regular calls.”

He smiled. “Long as you do the same.”

“And you’re taking Audra with you. I already checked with Giles, and he agreed. I want to know that someone is watching your back, and she’s good.” Buffy was ready to fight with him about it, but she was hoping that he would agree without argument. She needed to know that he would be safe, and that he would come back to her.

His smile turned into a smirk as he sat down next to her. “Long as you’re takin’ Vi with you, you’ll get no argument from me.”

Buffy laid her forehead on his chest. “When are you leaving?”

“Tonight, soon as the sun goes down. We’ll take the train to Newcastle an’ contact the new Slayer.” His hands stroked her back. “You have to leave now, or you’ll miss your flight. You’ve got a Watcher meetin’ you in Germany, right?”

She nodded, then pulled him close for a kiss, the embrace taking on a desperation. There hadn’t been enough time to reconnect, to reassure herself that he was alive and well and in one piece. So much time had been wasted, and now they were being separated again.

“I have to go,” she gasped when she stopped to catch her breath.

As if on cue, Vi called through the door, “Buffy! We have to go!”

“Be right there.” She tried to pull Spike closer for another quick kiss, but he pulled back and rose to his feet, bringing her up with him.

“If we do that again, you’re not goin’ to get out of this room anytime soon,” he said in a low voice.

She smiled and pressed her hand to his cheek. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Buffy grabbed her bag and dashed out the door past Spike. Striding down the hallway, Vi at her heels, Buffy asked, “Where’s Giles?”

“Right here.” Her Watcher joined her as she walked towards the front door. “Willem will meet you there. He should be able to assist you.”

Buffy shook her head. “We’ve been over this, Giles. I need you to do a favor for me.”

“What’s that?”

“Spike needs a cell phone.” Her tone brooked no argument, and she was grateful when he offered none.

“I’ve already arranged it,” he assured her. “I had a feeling that you might ask.” He hesitated. “I want you to take Andrew with you.”

“Absolutely not,” Buffy hissed. “He’ll just get in the way.”

“The boy has been feeling a bit useless,” Giles whispered. “And he might be of some assistance.”

“As what? Cannon fodder?”

“If it comes to that.” Giles’ voice suggested that he meant it as a joke more than anything else. “I realize that he can be annoying, but he’s learned quite a bit in the time he’s been here, and he wants to help.”

Buffy couldn’t believe the words were coming out of her mouth, but she asked anyway. “Why can’t you send him with Spike?”

“Because Spike reminded me that I sent Andrew with him on his last mission, and he said that it was someone else’s turn.” The rueful twist of his lips told Buffy that he was still feeling guilty about his actions in Sunnydale. “Also, I owe him.”

“Fine,” Buffy sighed. She glanced over her shoulder at Vi, who had been listening in silence. “You okay with that?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“I’m afraid not,” Giles replied. “I’ve already purchased his tickets.” They stood at the front door, and Giles put his hand on her shoulder. “Be careful, Buffy. From what Willem has told me, it looks as though Munich has the beginnings of a full-fledged Hellmouth.”

Buffy nodded. “Send backup when you can?”

“Of course.” He squeezed her shoulder affectionately, then let her go.

She sighed when she saw Andrew already waiting in the car for them. “You know,” Vi whispered from behind her, “we can always throw him into the Hellmouth. He’d probably talk the demons to death and close it down that way.”

Buffy couldn’t help the grin that formed.

~~~~~

Dawn glanced into the study and saw Spike surrounded by young Slayers and Watchers. She shook her head in amusement. Although it had been difficult to tear him from Buffy’s side, the moment either of them had emerged from Buffy’s room, they had been swarmed by the younger ones in residence.

She knew why, of course. They were both heroes, the ones who had died to save the world, and the fact that there was romance involved only made it more alluring.

Dawn paused to listen to the story he was telling, wondering what kind of tall tale he was passing off as truth. “…an’ then this troll comes strollin’ into the Bronze where we were, calling for babies and ale. He was about twice my size, so you can bet I wasn’t goin’ to tell him he couldn’t have it.”

She grinned as she realized that Spike was telling the story of Olaf the Troll, and mostly sticking to the facts. Leaning against the doorway, she listened as he finished the tale, making Buffy the hero and himself the joker.

When he’d finished the story, Spike rose from his seat. “That’s all for today. I’ve got places to be.”

“Please, Spike!” Rose protested. “One more story.”

Spike met Dawn’s eyes across the room. “I’ve got to see the lovely Watcher over there about my travel arrangements.”

“I’m not a Watcher yet,” Dawn reminded him in a low voice as he joined her.

He shook his head. “Sure you are, Bit. You might not have the title, but you have everything else, and titles don’t matter so much.”

“I thought you already had your tickets,” Dawn said, referring to his excuse for leaving the gathering.

“I do,” Spike replied. “But I only have an hour or so before we have to leave, an’ Rupert said something about wanting to talk to me.”

Dawn nodded. “Something about the amulet. We haven’t been able to spare anyone to talk to Angel about it yet. Giles is thinking about sending Faith when she’s finished up in Brazil.”

“From what I hear, they always got along alright,” Spike replied.

Dawn didn’t mention the other reason Giles wanted to see the vampire; the coven had created something that they said would help him, but she had no idea what that would be. “I think so,” she replied, leading him into the study, where Giles was talking with Miriam over tea.

“There you are,” Giles said, rising. “Good of you to join us.”

“I came as soon as I could get away,” Spike replied.

Miriam smiled. “You are a highly desirable speaker, I hear.”

The vampire shrugged uncomfortably. “The kiddies have never seen a vampire before, an’ they’ll be facing them down soon enough. More information never hurt anybody.”

“If the crises ever reach manageable levels, I’d like you to stay here,” Giles said. “You’ll be invaluable as a trainer, Spike.”

He looked even more embarrassed. “Don’t think I’d make a good role model.”

“Be that as it may, we do need you to pick up Sally in Newcastle,” Giles replied. “As long as it’s feasible, I would like to give each Slayer an escort here.”

“Includin’ the ones on other continents?”

Giles shook his head. “No, but those in Europe at least. No matter. Miriam has something for you.”

Dawn watched as Miriam reached into the bag next to her chair and drew out a silk-wrapped bundle. “Hold out your hand,” she directed.

Spike did as he was told, and Miriam opened the cloth, allowing a heavy silver ring to drop into his hand. There was a brief flash of light and all was still again. “What the—”

“It’s sealed to you and only you now,” she said, sounding satisfied with herself. “It won’t work for anyone else.”

Spike glanced up at her, then his eyes were drawn back to the ring. “What does it do?”

“Put it on.” When he did as he was told, Miriam said, “Go look in the mirror.”

He looked startled, but did as he was told. Dawn had expected him to argue, but then again, Miriam wasn’t someone you argued with.

From where she sat, Dawn caught a glimpse of Spike’s reflection in the mirror. He put a hand up to his face, running a finger across the scar through his eyebrow. “What—” he began hoarsely.

“It doesn’t make you mortal, of course,” Miriam said. “That would hardly be worth our while, since you’re of much more use as a vampire.” His face darkened slightly at her words, but he didn’t interrupt. Dawn understood why he might take offense at her blunt assessment—it made him sound like extra help and nothing else. “The ring functions much as the Gem of Amara did, but it will only work for you, and it should come in handy if you are lost.”

“Lost?” he questioned.

“As long as you’re wearing it, the coven will know where you are, and whether you’re alive,” Miriam explained. “I’m sure that once you tell Buffy about it, she’ll be quite happy.”

Spike shook his head. “Why me?”

“Because we’ve seen enough to know that you’ll need it, and that you’re important to our efforts.” Miriam sighed. “Even with the seeing bowl that you and Buffy brought back from Osmotherley, our visions of the future aren’t completely clear. All we know is that you are at the center, and that it’s imperative that you’re safe.”

Spike’s hand clenched into a fist, and he stared at the ring. It was completely unremarkable—a plain silver band that adorned his left middle finger. “And sunlight?”

“Not an issue for you, although I’m afraid that there’s nothing we can do about stakes or beheadings—or fire, for that matter. Anything that would kill a human will still kill you.”

He nodded slowly. “I see.”

“What else have you discovered about the amulet?” Giles asked the witch.

She glanced at Spike before replying. “I do not believe that it reached its intended target. There was a secondary spell that was meant to bind the person trapped inside in incorporeal form.”

“I would have been a ghost?” Spike asked, sounding alarmed.

Miriam shrugged elegantly. “Something like that, yes, but only if you had been released at that specific location. As it was, the secondary spell was never triggered, and Willow managed to release you herself—probably when she cut her finger. There were traces of blood on it.”

Spike sat back in his chair, looking a little stunned. “That doesn’t make me comfortable. Can it be used again?”

“No,” Miriam assured him. “Its power has been spent.”

There was a soft knock on the door, and Audra poked her head in. “I just wanted to see if you were ready to go,” she said, looking at Spike.

“Yeah. The car here?”

“No, but it will be shortly.”

“We’re wrapping this up,” Giles promised.

The Slayer nodded and ducked out again.

“Anything else I should know?” Spike asked, looking at Miriam.

She shook her head. “No. I believe we have some time before we ought to begin worrying.”

Dawn didn’t know about the head of the coven, but she was already worried; there were way too many things that could go wrong between now and then.

~~~~~

Giles closed his eyes, trying to pull his thoughts into some order. He had not continued his habit of recording his Slayer’s activities once he’d left Sunnydale, and after he’d returned, there had been too much to do to spend any time at all writing. Now, he found that he had to write everything down, or he’d begin to lose track of the surviving Slayers and their Watchers.

Glancing down at the paper again, he went back over the list, wanting to be sure that he’d recorded everything.

“_According to remaining Council logs and current counts, there are twenty-seven Watchers remaining, including those in their last year at the Academy. Of those twenty-seven, three have been sent to Brazil, one is in Germany, one is in South Africa, and ten are potentially ready to go out into the field with supervision. Those Watchers remaining will need to be assigned to troubled areas._

“The number of Slayers is more difficult to determine. The coven estimates that anywhere between five hundred and two thousand were Chosen through Willow’s spell. A few have been located, but there have been confirmed hits placed on surviving Slayers in at least two areas of the world, and likely more. Of those located, more than half appear to be under the age of fifteen, making training difficult.”

Training girls that young was more than difficult. They ought to be in school, not thinking about possible attacks from demons and vampires. It was difficult enough stealing the last part of childhood from the older girls, but the younger ones—

The girls like Rose, who had always known they were Slayers, were perhaps in a better position, and the Council certainly had easier access. The others had to be found, and then their parents had to be convinced to let them be trained, and the younger they were, the harder it was to do.

Giles would have preferred to locate the younger ones and leave them with their parents for a few years until they’d matured, but that was dangerous, particularly in countries like Brazil, where there was a price on the head of every girl.

“Here.”

He took the sheaf of papers Dawn held out to him. “What’s this?”

“It’s a list I’ve been working on,” she replied. “Slayers, their Watchers, and allies. I’ve separated them out into categories as to whether we’ve located them, contacted them, or have only heard rumors.”

Giles blinked. “This is wonderful, Dawn.”

“Andrew helped a little,” she admitted. “I had to do something while Buffy and Spike were boinking.”

He cleared his throat. While he may have given into the idea that the two were together, he didn’t like to be reminded that they were actually sleeping together. There were a few things about which he preferred to remain ignorant. “Yes, well, thank you. I believe this will be of great help.”

“How long are you going to let the kids stick around?” Dawn asked, plopping herself down in the chair across from his desk.

“Where would I send them?” he asked softly. “Trust me, Dawn, I’ve thought about it, but most of the Watchers lost one parent, if not two, when the headquarters were blown up, and the Slayers who were here haven’t seen their families in years. The Council is all they’ve ever known.”

Dawn nodded, as though she hadn’t expected another answer. “We need to begin training them, then. I know we’ve got emergencies to deal with, Giles, but we’re never going to have the girl-power to deal with it if they don’t know the right end of a weapon.”

Giles studied the girl for a long moment, realizing that she’d grown up even more than he’d suspected during that last year in Sunnydale. Gone was the teenager who had been convinced that the world revolved around her; in her place was an adult who was willing to put aside her own desires and needs for the greater good.

He wondered why he hadn’t seen it earlier.

“What did you have in mind?” he asked evenly.

Dawn moved forward, sitting at the edge of her chair. “Recall all the Watchers who shouldn’t be out in the field, and either keep them here, or send them to a centralized location where they’re needed. I think that if we have regional training centers, that will make it easier to respond to emergencies.”

“You put together the list.” Giles raised an eyebrow. “What Watchers would you recall?”

Dawn took the report out of his hands and flipped to the back page. “I made a list.”

Giles scanned it, recognizing a number of names. Most of them were well over the age of retirement, but would probably do for teachers. “Wesley Wyndam-Pryce’s name is on this list,” he said, surprised.

“We need him more than Angel does,” Dawn said bluntly. “And you know it.”

Giles sighed. “Wesley is a prat, Dawn. I hardly think—”

“How long has he been working for Angel?” she demanded. “And he’s still alive, so he can’t be that bad anymore. Besides, you heard Willow when she got back from stuffing Angel’s soul back in. He’s definitely gotten better.”

Giles closed his eyes, thinking about their options—and they didn’t have many. Dawn was right about that, anyway. They needed every man and woman who had even a smattering of Watcher training, and Wesley had had more than that. “Very well. I’m planning to send Faith to talk to Angel about the amulet and where he got it—assuming that she can take care of the Demos problem in Brazil. I’ll have her speak with Wesley as well.”

“Good,” Dawn said with a satisfied nod. “I think that’s it, then.”

“Dawn—” he began as she started to leave. “This was very well done. Thank you.”

She flushed slightly. “Thanks.”

When she’d gone, Giles made a mental note to offer her praise more often. The girl was doing quite a bit, without much recognition, and that probably ought to change.


	11. Pretoria, South Africa

**“…We’re beginning to settle down here. The last of our Slayers arrived yesterday, and Emily’s father left this morning. I’m glad that he was the one to come. Her mom wasn’t happy about the Slayer thing. So far, we haven’t had any more demon attacks, but I know it’s just a matter of time…” Excerpt from an email from Xander Harris to Buffy Summers**

Corey saw Xander standing in the doorway of the training room, watching as Whit corrected Emily’s grasp on the quarterstaff, the other three girls looking on avidly.

She was fairly certain that no one else had noticed Xander’s jealousy of Whit; the older man had managed to hide his feelings well. The only reason Corey had noticed was because she noticed _everything_ about him, and after Xander had abruptly disappeared when Whit entered the room, she had known that something was wrong.

Xander’s problems with Whit aside, Corey knew that the young Watcher was going to present another difficulty. Nàtali, Leotta, and Zindy had already bonded with Xander, and seemed to view Whit with suspicion as a stranger and possible interloper. Emily, however, already had a crush on the boy.

As was made more obvious by her deep blush every time he touched her during their training sessions. Corey could only thank her lucky stars that Whit was entirely oblivious.

“Very good, Emily,” Whit said when she managed to parry his blows. “Leotta, you’re next.”

Corey put a hand on Xander’s arm. “Miles just called,” she said softly. “He’s coming over this afternoon. Apparently, Giles called him earlier with an idea for the school.”

“Great,” he replied absently, his eyes remaining fixed on the girls and Whit. “When you have time, Whit could probably use your help.”

“Why don’t you go in there?” she suggested, sensing that he wanted to. “Two of the girls can spar while you take the other one. It would make for even numbers that way.”

Xander shook his head, finally turning from the doorway. “They don’t need me.”

Corey followed him as he walked away, stifling a sigh. “You really shouldn’t be jealous of him.”

“I’m not.”

“Please don’t lie to me,” she replied. “I know you well enough to know better than that.”

Xander stopped, his head down. “Fine.”

Hesitantly, not wanting to overstep her bounds, Corey put her arm through his. “Let’s go outside,” she suggested, relieved when he didn’t pull away.

“How long have you been doing this?” she asked, once they were outside, and out of earshot of the girls.

“Doing what?”

“Fighting demons, or whatever you’d like to call it.”

“Seven years, maybe a little more.” She could see the muscle in his jaw tighten, but she couldn’t see his expression very well; the eye patch hid quite a bit, and he wasn’t facing towards her.

“So, you have more experience than Bertrand does.” Corey could understand how Xander felt, better than he might realize. They were close to the same age, and she knew that she often felt as though she was in over her head.

She hadn’t gone to the Watcher’s Academy, preferring instead to go to university when it became clear that she wasn’t going to be Chosen. She’d wanted to put all of that behind her, wanted to forget that she hadn’t been special enough to be the Slayer, a job she’d been preparing for all her life.

And then the Council building had been blown up, her parents had been killed, and she had been thrust back into the world she’d thought she’d left behind, to fulfill a role she’d never thought to have.

“I was the one to run errands,” Xander replied, a touch of bitterness in his voice. “I wasn’t a fighter like Buffy, or good with books like Giles, or a witch like Willow. I was Tool Guy, who could fix doors.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being able to fix a door.”

“But it’s not something you need to teach a Slayer.”

“As many doors as get broken down, I would think that it would be a useful skill.” When Xander gave her a dirty look, clearly thinking that she wasn’t taking his pain seriously, Corey sighed. “We need you, Xander, whether you believe it or not. Whit may have skills that you do not, but he does not have your experience or emotional maturity.”

His eyes went wide. “You think I’m mature?”

Corey laughed. “Relatively speaking.”

Xander’s expression turned sheepish when he realized that she was teasing him. “It’s just that—I never prepared for this, and he did.”

“No one prepares for this job, Xander,” Corey said quietly. “Most Watchers are not put in charge of an active Slayer, or even a potential. Living on a Hellmouth, fighting demons and vampires for the last few years—you’re better equipped for this job than most.”

He didn’t reply, but she could tell that he was pleased by her praise, and possibly reassured. Corey felt for him; whether he realized it or not, he _was_ in charge, and she knew that the responsibility weighed heavily.

“I want you to know that I couldn’t do this without you,” Xander finally said, not looking at her.

She glanced over, startled by his admission. “I don’t—”

“It’s too soon,” he continued as though she hadn’t spoken. “I loved Anya, and I still miss her every day, but I wanted you to know that.”

Corey sat, speechless, even after he’d risen and gone inside. She could still feel the impression of his lips on her forehead. His words had come as a complete surprise—but it had been a good one.

~~~~~

Whit was well aware that Xander didn’t like him much. He had no idea what he’d done to bring it on, but he knew that there was nothing he could do to change it. If the older man didn’t care for him, so be it. He would work that much harder to prove himself indispensable.

“Where are you going, Whit?” Emily asked a little breathlessly, showing up at his side unexpectedly.

“For a walk.” He glanced down at her. “Aren’t you supposed to be with Miles, studying?”

“He’s working with the younger girls,” Emily said. “Leotta can barely read her own name, and Zindy has a really hard time with it, too.”

“That’s probably why their parents allowed them to come,” Whit responded. “They wouldn’t have much chance of going to school otherwise.”

She nodded. “That’s what Corey said. Miles said I was done for the morning if I wanted to be.”

“You should see if Corey needs help,” Whit told her, not particularly wanting company on this venture. He had plans to scout out the area, to see if he could find out where the demons had been coming from. Miles had told him about the one before he’d come, and there had been another that he had killed.

“I want to stay with you.” She looked up at him, her expression eager. “I’ve slept better since I was here, and I want to see a demon for myself.”

Whit frowned. “I told you, I’m just going for a walk. We’re not going to see a demon.”

“You’re hunting for one, aren’t you?” she asked. “Xander doesn’t think we’re ready for that yet.”

The reminder of Xander’s authority rankled. Whit understood why he was in charge, but he was the one with more training and background, and he sometimes wondered if he wasn’t the better choice. “I think you’re ready for it,” he said a bit recklessly. “You’ve been coming along very nicely.”

“Then I can come with you?” she asked, giving him a winsome smile.

Whit grinned. “Sure. We probably won’t find anything anyway.” He had noticed how she smiled at him, and although she was too young for him and a Slayer besides, he couldn’t help the glow of pride he felt. Emily really was quite pretty.

If they did run into any trouble, he would be able to protect her.

~~~~~

Xander glanced into the room that Miles and Corey were using for the girls’ lessons. With so few Slayers, they could tailor every aspect of their training to the Slayers’ individual needs. He saw three dark heads bent over notepads, laboriously copying what Miles had written on the whiteboard in the front of the room.

“Where’s Emily?” he asked.

The three younger girls all looked up at him. “She finished her lessons,” Zindy supplied. “She’s better at this than us.”

“You’re doing just fine,” he replied. “Better than I ever did in school.” He winked, which set them to giggling.

Miles came up from behind him, leaning heavily on his cane. “Ah, Xander. I thought we would work a bit more here, then move onto self-defense after lunch.”

“That sounds great.” Xander was grateful for Miles’ help, as well as his unwavering loyalty. He had no idea why Miles seemed to have no question about his ability to lead, but that was not a question he was prepared to ask. “Have you seen Emily or Whit?”

Miles shook his head. “No. I told them both that I didn’t have anything else for them until this afternoon.”

He frowned. “Huh. I’m sure they’ll turn up.” The three girls were looking at him, clearly curious. “Finish this up and we’ll eat,” he promised.

Xander smiled to himself as he walked down the hall and out into the bright sunshine. All of them were great kids; he was grateful that he hadn’t had any real trouble from them yet, unlike Willow with Kennedy. Then again, maybe Robin would be able to handle her; he _had_ been a high school principal.

“Xander?” Corey called from behind him. “Have you seen Emily or Whit?”

He turned to face her. “No. Miles said he’d let them off the hook until after lunch. What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. I just—I have the oddest feeling.”

Xander opened his mouth to dismiss her fears, then shut it again. “Miles is with the other girls,” he said. “We’ll look for them.”

She nodded, apparently relieved. “I don’t want to overreact, but we did have those demons attack the school, and I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

“You and me both,” he said. “Grab a weapon and we’ll go.”

The ax felt comfortable in his hands, and Xander realized that it had been a very long time since he’d been hunting for trouble in the form of demons or vampires. The sun was high enough in the sky so that they didn’t have to be worried about the undead, but the demons Corey had identified as assassins had no such problems.

“We’ve never done this before,” Corey observed as they began their stroll around the grounds.

“Done what?”

“Hunting together.” She glanced over at him. “We’ll need to start taking the girls out soon.”

“I know.” The very idea scared him, but Xander knew that it was inevitable. “It should probably be soon, too.”

“Probably.”

“Nat already managed to take one down,” he mused. “The girls are a lot tougher than I give them credit for.”

“They _are_ Slayers.” Corey paused, then pointed off to the west, towards the hills. “That way, I think.”

Xander didn’t question her assurance. If she was certain that something was wrong, he would follow her lead. “What kind of trouble do you think they’re in?”

“I don’t know.” She sounded frustrated.

He was about to tell her not to worry when he heard the scream ahead. Xander began running toward the sound, grateful that he was in better shape than he had been. The sound of a gun firing caused him to move even faster, and his lungs began to burn.

Corey was right next to him, and out of the corner of his eye he could see her braids streaming behind her, her dark skin glistening with perspiration. “There!”

He saw them even before she spoke. They passed a stand of trees out into the open, seeing Emily and Whit above the tall grasses. The teens were surrounded by a group of demons of the same kind that Nàtali had killed.

Whit fired another shot from the rifle he held, and one of the demons collapsed. Xander could see that there were at least five left, and because Emily was unarmed except for the stake she held, the fight was hardly fair.

The young Watcher switched his grip on the gun, holding it like a club, and Xander knew that he was out of ammunition.

The demons were too intent on their prey to notice Xander and Corey coming up behind them, and Xander swung his ax in a powerful arc at the closest demon. The sharp blade cut through its neck easily, and he moved to interpose himself between Emily and the demons.

Corey moved just as quickly to protect Whit, bringing up her crossbow and hitting the demon in the back. At that close range, the bolt nearly went straight through, and Whit threw himself down on the ground to avoid a blow from a third.

Xander’s complete attention was occupied with the remaining two demons intent on going through him to get to the Slayer. He struck one in the stomach with the shaft of the ax, and sliced upwards to catch the second in the abdomen. It went down with a howl, taking his weapon with it.

He cursed fluently, knowing that he wasn’t strong enough to fend the demon off in hand-to-hand combat. Emily sprang past him, however, seizing the demon on either side of its head while it was still off-guard from the blow that Xander had scored. Giving the head a sharp twist, she broke its neck easily and then sank to her knees.

Whirling to face the next threat, Xander saw Whit strike the last demon in its face with the butt of the rifle, and when it went down, Corey shot it with the crossbow, killing it.

Although the demons were dead, Xander knew that there might be more nearby. “Let’s go,” he said shortly. “There might be more.” He paused only to yank his ax from under one of the dead demons.

“Xander—” Whit began.

“Not now.” Xander swallowed the harsh words he wanted to say, remembering a few of the lectures Giles had given him when he’d done something stupid. Besides, it probably wasn’t the best idea to lecture the Watcher in front of one of the girls. “Are you alright, Em?” he asked.

She nodded shakily, green with nausea and nerves. “Yeah.”

“Good. Stay close to Corey.”

The rest of the trip back to the school was made in silence, Xander keeping a sharp lookout for more demons. “Emily, go get cleaned up for lunch,” Xander said once they’d reached the building. “I want to talk to Whit.”

Corey gave him a look that he readily interpreted as a warning to go easy on the boy. “I’ll see you in a moment,” was all she said aloud.

“Xander, I’m sorry,” Whit said. “I never meant—”

Xander shook his head, cutting off his explanation. “I don’t want to hear it. If you’re going to go out with a Slayer, it’s your responsibility to ensure that you’re both fully armed. You _knew_ that there was a possibility of a demonic attack, and all Emily had on her was a stake.”

Whit’s face flushed a deep red, although Xander could tell that it wasn’t out of anger, but embarrassment. “I know. I’m sorry.”

He sighed. “I know. Just don’t do it again, okay?”

Whit’s voice stopped him as he turned to head inside. “I don’t know what I did to make you dislike me, but I’d like to do what I can to make it better.”

Xander looked down, well aware that there was no real explanation he could give, not one that would satisfy the younger man at least. “It’s nothing you did,” he finally replied.

That explanation was unlikely to satisfy Whit, but Xander wasn’t prepared to say more just yet. He just hoped that the Watcher would be more careful in the future.


	12. Munich, Germany

**“…Giles was right about there being a new Hellmouth popping up. Willem helped us pinpoint it, and we’ve been trying to figure out how to seal it off, or at least figure out how to prevent someone from opening it. I know that Giles said he had some sort of important task for you, but if you can make it to Germany, I’d appreciate it. I miss you…” ~Excerpt from an email from Buffy Summers to Spike**

Buffy scrubbed her shirt under cold water, hoping she could get the blood out. She didn’t have all that many clothes to be throwing away a ruined shirt.

The knock on the door heralded Willem’s concerned voice. “Buffy? Are you alright?”

“I’m good,” she called. “Gotta love that Slayer healing.”

“Very well.”

She stared at her stained blouse and sighed, knowing that it was a lost cause. Pulling a spare t-shirt over her head, she smiled faintly. Buffy had stolen one of Spike’s shirts when he wasn’t looking, and she could still smell him on it. It was currently serving as sleepwear.

“Still missing him, huh?” Vi asked when she came out.

“What gave you that idea?”

Vi gave the shirt a pointed look. “If your choice of pajamas wasn’t enough, the twice-daily emails would have given it away.”

“Are you referring to Spike?” Willem asked, sounding intrigued. “I would like to meet him.”

“If Giles will let him, he might come to Munich.” Buffy tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice; she knew that the circumstances were more at fault than her Watcher.

Willem offered her a sympathetic look. “This is my girl.” He held out a picture, which Buffy took as she sat down on his couch.

They had been staying in his small apartment because it was easier and cheaper than getting a hotel room. Besides, both she and Vi had been stuffed into the house in Sunnydale; three people in a one bedroom flat was luxurious in comparison.

Of course, they had ditched Andrew within the first week. He’d tried to get involved in a fight against a few vampires and had been bitten. She and Vi had sent him back to Giles to recover—with strict instructions to the head Watcher to keep him in England.

The girl in the picture was blonde and laughing, her arms around Willem’s neck. He looked happier than Buffy had seen him in the few days since they’d met. “She’s really pretty.”

“She is studying to be a doctor,” he explained. “But she was accepted at Bonn, and my job is here.”

“Does she know what you do?” Vi asked.

“_Ja_.” He gave them both a boyish grin. “She says she will be able to put her skills to use.”

Buffy smiled in return. “We could definitely use a doctor or two.”

“More than two.” Willem put the picture back on his table. “What are we to do about the Hellmouth?”

Buffy shook her head. “I have no idea. The last Hellmouth I saw was closed by a vampire and an amulet that another vampire gave me.”

Willem’s expression grew worried. “This is not good news.”

“We’ve dealt with a Hellmouth before over the long term,” Buffy replied, wanting to encourage him. “It just takes a Slayer, plus a few other people.”

Vi leaned back against the cushions of the couch. “The only problem is that we’re short on people.”

“Right now we are,” Buffy agreed, “but in time we’ll have enough to spare a few to watch over whatever Hellmouths might show up.”

“I hope that what you say is true, Buffy,” Willem replied solemnly. “I would not want to keep you from your Spike.”

Buffy took a deep breath. “Yeah. Me, too.”

~~~~~

Vi put a stake in her fourth vampire of the evening and spat out the resulting dust that entered her mouth. The alley was full of the stuff, with Buffy staking another vampire just behind her, and Willem hitting a second with a bolt from his crossbow.

That was the thing about being on top of a Hellmouth. The energies drew all kinds of demonic activity, including vampires from all over.

The sudden silence in the alley was broken by the ringing of Buffy’s cell phone. Vi nodded to let her know that they were clear, and she answered it. “Hello?”

Vi couldn’t hear the voice on the other end, but she knew it was Spike from the expression on Buffy’s face. “Why?” she demanded, keeping her voice low. Her eyes closed, taking in his answer. “We’re still out on patrol. Can I call you when we get back to the apartment?”

He must have given his assent, because she said, “Talk to you soon.”

“He’s not coming?” Vi asked sympathetically.

She shook her head. “Giles needs him to stay. We’re supposed to talk about it later.”

“I’m sorry, Buffy.” She felt awful for the older Slayer. “Why don’t you go back to Bath for a quick weekend? We can take care of things here for a while.”

Willem added his voice. “Of course.”

“I’ll check with Giles,” Buffy replied. “Maybe if he can send someone else to replace me, but we’ve got enough to handle right now.”

“We could check with the coven,” Vi suggested. “They might have a way to put a seal on it without an amulet-wearing vampire.”

“They’re working on it,” Buffy replied. “Let’s get back.”

The walk back to the apartment was made in silence. Vi wasn’t sure what to say to comfort her friend; she and Buffy had grown pretty close over the last few weeks. The two of them had been teamed up every time there was an emergency, and she’d gained an intimate understanding of the way Buffy’s mind worked.

She was so used to being the Chosen _One_, and so used to putting duty in front of her own needs, that she was unlikely to go to Bath to see Spike, even if it had been feasible. The only way that was going to change was if somebody with more authority ordered her back, and that was highly unlikely to happen.

As soon as they got back, Buffy retreated to the tiny balcony for privacy, leaving Vi with Willem. “She will not go to him?”

“She’s pretty dedicated to her calling,” Vi responded. “Unless Giles can spare somebody to replace her, I don’t think so.”

“I believe that we could handle it.”

“But Buffy doesn’t, and if either of us were hurt, she’d never forgive herself.” Vi shrugged. “That’s part of what makes her a hero.”

Willem raised an eyebrow. “But not a martyr?”

Vi snorted. “Of course she’s a martyr. She died to save the freaking world. I think she’s allowed.”

~~~~~

She clutched the phone to her ear. “How long did Giles think?” The long pause made her heart sink. “He doesn’t want you to come at all.”

“This weekend,” Spike said. “I’ll leave Friday afternoon and stay through Sunday.”

She sighed. “How did you talk him into it?”

“Didn’t. Just told him that even the best teachers get weekends off, an’ I was takin’ mine to see you.”

“Teachers?”

“That’s what I’m gonna be doing.” His tone was wry. “Rupert talked me into it, but it was your sister’s idea.”

“What was?” Buffy asked, still not understanding.

“The Bit suggested recalling all the Watchers who are too decrepit for field work to carry the academic load. That leaves yours truly to make sure they get the physical training they need.”

Buffy couldn’t help the snicker that escaped. “You’re going to be the phys ed teacher for a bunch of Watchers and Slayers?”

There was a humorous note in Spike’s voice. It was clear that he appreciated the irony. “And the final examiner. Rupert said I’d know if they were ready to go out or not.”

“You?”

“Others, too, but yeah. That’s why it’s only for the weekend, pet. Classes run Monday through Friday.” He sighed. “I sound like a bleedin’ ponce.”

“You sound like someone who’s going to be really good at what he does,” Buffy replied. “I want you here, but Giles is right. We need someone who can train them, and there’s no one who can do a better job than a vampire.”

“Glad you think so.” There was real pleasure in his voice.

“It’s pretty close quarters here,” she warned him.

Spike snorted. “You crazy, Summers? I’ll get a hotel room. We can shack up during the day and hunt at night.”

“Just like old times, huh?”

“We never.”

“No, we didn’t. I’m sorry about that.” She felt the pang of regret for lost time and lost opportunities yet again. Maybe Spike was alive again, but they still weren’t together, not in any real sense of the word.

Then again, they were closer in heart than they had ever been.

“Don’t be sorry. We’re here now, an’ I’ll be _there_ on Friday,” Spike promised. “You want to talk to Giles?”

“Yeah, sure. And tell Dawn that I’ll call her tomorrow?”

“Sure thing. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

There was a pause, and Giles’ voice came on the line. “Buffy?”

“Hey, Giles.”

“I’m sorry I can’t send Spike onto you, but it’s imperative that we begin training the Slayers and Watchers immediately. We’ve wasted enough time as it is, and—”

“I know,” Buffy assured him. “I’ll deal.”

“Good. Thank you. How is Munich?”

“From what I’ve seen of it so far, it’s a beautiful city. Not that I’ve seen much.”

“Perhaps you and Spike will have some time to see the city while he’s there,” Giles suggested.

Buffy frowned. “It’s hard to see the city after dark; that’s been my problem so far.”

Giles cleared his throat. “Oh, of course. Forgive me. I hadn’t realized…”

“Hadn’t realized what?” she asked suspiciously.

“Nothing,” Giles assured her. “I just hadn’t realized that you were unable to see much of the city yet.”

Buffy knew that there was something that he wasn’t telling her, but she decided not to push it. “We’ve been pretty busy. Has the coven figured out a way to seal the Hellmouth yet?”

“No. I’m sorry, Buffy, but they seem to think that as long as there is unbalance, it will be impossible to close or seal the Hellmouth. Our best chance is to train enough Slayers to take up permanent residence at each and keep them under control.”

She heard the hard truth in his voice. “That’s where Spike comes in.”

“Yes.”

“It makes sense,” she admitted. “We’ll be fine, Giles. I have plenty of practice in dealing with a Hellmouth.”

“Indeed, you do.” Giles paused. “I should let you get some sleep. Be careful, Buffy, and please keep me informed.”

“Will do,” she promised. “I’ll call soon.”

Buffy ended the call, but stayed out on the balcony, staring off into the darkness. She had been both relieved and grief-stricken after leaving Sunnydale—relieved because she’d thought it was over, and grieving over the loss of Spike, Anya, and the Slayers who had been killed.

She didn’t think it was a stretch to say that things had gone from bad to worse. There were multiple Hellmouths opening, Slayers who were dying, and Buffy was helpless to change it. Once again, she wasn’t in control of her own destiny.

~~~~~

Spike stepped off the plane, feeling the late afternoon sun on his face. He hadn’t told Buffy about the ring Miriam had given him, or that he was coming a day early, because he’d wanted to surprise her. Audra was well-trained enough to take his classes for a Friday, and Giles was still feeling guilty about trying to have him killed.

Before Spike had asked for his soul, he’d appreciated the use of emotional blackmail, knowing how effective it could be. Now that he had his soul—well, he still appreciated it, especially if it helped him to see Buffy.

He hailed a cab at the airport entrance and gave directions to the hotel where he’d made reservations. Spike planned on checking in before walking to Willem’s flat, which was only a few blocks away. He had wanted to be sure that it would be easy to get back and forth, because he knew Buffy well enough to know that she wouldn’t want to shirk her duty.

Checking in didn’t take long, and Spike immediately headed for his next destination. With any luck, Buffy would have stuck around the apartment, rather than heading out into the city for the day. He didn’t want to have to track her down.

Spike slipped inside behind one of the residents, just before the door clicked shut behind her, then made his way up the stairs to the apartment. He knocked briskly, then stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

The door swung open to reveal a fair-haired man of about thirty. His green eyes narrowed at the sight of Spike. “May I help you?” he asked in German.

“I hope so,” Spike replied in the same language. “I’m looking for Buffy Summers.”

“And you are?”

“Spike?” Buffy emerged from another room; Spike caught a glimpse of her over the man’s shoulder. “What are you doing here?” She rushed forward, pushing past Willem to throw her arms around him. “I thought you weren’t coming until Friday.”

“Wanted to surprise you.” He held her tightly, burying his face in her hair. Spike thought it strange, in a way, that he had so much trouble being apart from her when he’d never really been _with_ her. “How am I doing?”

“Really well.” Buffy pulled back slightly to kiss him, her mouth hungry. “Did you just get in? What about the sun?”

He shook his head. “Didn’t have to worry about it.” Spike glanced over her shoulder at the people standing in the doorway. “I know Vi, but you want to introduce me to your other friend?”

“Oh, right!” She turned. “Willem, this is Spike. Spike, this is Willem, the Watcher here in Munich.”

“I’m pleased to meet you,” Willem said, holding out a hand. “Won’t you come in?”

Spike took the proffered hand and followed him inside. Everywhere he went—or almost everywhere—the Watchers and Slayers had been incredibly welcoming, and he still found it strange. “Thanks. How’s the Hellmouth?”

“It’s keeping us on our toes,” Buffy replied. “I swear that every vampire in Germany decided to come here for a holiday.”

Spike shrugged. “It’s the energies, and that’s the nature of the game, I’m afraid.”

“It certainly isn’t boring,” Vi replied. “How long are you staying?”

“Until Sunday afternoon.” Spike glanced around the apartment. “Not to cut this visit short, but do you want to take a walk, luv?”

Buffy frowned. “The sun is still up.”

“I know.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Does this have anything to do with what Giles wasn’t telling me the other night?”

“A bit,” he admitted. “Want to see my surprise?”

“Sure.” She turned to Willem and Vi. “We’ll meet up with you guys later?”

“No hurry,” Vi assured her. “I think we could probably take patrol tonight if you want to catch up.”

Buffy hesitated. “I don’t—”

“We’ll take patrol,” Spike insisted. “You two take the night off. Go see a movie or somethin’.”

Willem shrugged. “_Danke_. I need to call Lisel tonight.”

Vi sighed. “I guess I’m going to be reading a book. I’ll see you two tomorrow.”

“What’s the big secret?” Buffy demanded as soon as the door had closed behind them.

Spike held up his hand to show her the ring. “The coven decided I might need some sun block.”

Buffy stared at him. “What?”

“Come on.” Spike knew that a demonstration was in order, and he led her down the stairs and outside. She gaped at him as he stood in the waning light; although the sun wasn’t high in the sky, there was still enough sunlight to kill him—if he hadn’t been wearing the ring, of course.

“They made another Gem of Amara?” Buffy whispered, obviously still stunned.

He shook his head. “No. It won’t work for anyone but me, an’ it won’t protect me from anythin’ that would kill a human. The witch said that a stake through the heart or a beheading would still kill me, but I’m safe from sunlight, an’ I can see my own reflection now.”

She shook her head. “But why?”

“What do you mean?” Buffy’s reaction wasn’t quite what he’d been expecting. He’d thought that she’d be happy for him, but instead—“You have a problem with what they did for me? You think I’d misuse it?”

“No!” she exclaimed, clearly surprised that he’d draw that conclusion, although Spike wasn’t sure what else he was supposed to think. “It’s just—they think you need it, and I don’t know why. I get the feeling that the coven knows something they’re not sharing, and it makes me nervous.”

His face softened. “We’re gonna get through this, Buffy. Miriam said that as long as I was wearin’ the ring, the coven could find me. She said you’d be happy about that.”

“Yeah, but that means that I may not be able to find you at some point, that you’re going to be lost.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. “I’m telling you, they know something, Spike.”

“That might be,” he agreed. “But we can’t do anything more than we’re doin’ right now—unless it includes getting back to my hotel room. We don’t have much time.”

“No, we don’t,” she agreed. “But maybe we should start with a hunt, then go back to your hotel? Because I don’t know that we’ll leave your room for a very long time.”

Spike gave her a toothy grin. “That sounds like a perfect plan.”


	13. New Council Headquarters, Bath, England

**“…I’m glad to hear that Zoë made it back to Rio safely, and I let Giles know what you said about Davis. He’s working on finding a spot for him where he can’t do too much damage. Tell Faith that when she’s ready Giles will make the arrangements for her to go to L.A. We need Wesley, and we need to know more about the amulet and where it came from…” ~Excerpt from an email from Dawn Summers to Willow Rosenberg**

“Hey, pet.”

Dawn glanced up from her schoolbooks to see Spike standing in the doorway. “Hey. Did you just get in?”

“Few minutes ago. Buffy passed on a message for you.” Spike handed her an envelope with her name scrawled prominently across the front. “She seemed to think you might be angry with her.”

Dawn winced. “I’m not angry. I’m busy, and I miss her.”

“Might want to let her know that, pet,” he replied. “Buffy’s feelin’ a bit cut off as it is.”

She didn’t respond, not knowing what to say. Dawn missed her sister, but at the same time, Giles was more willing to let her expand her horizons than Buffy was. The freedom and responsibility were greatly appreciated, but she could understand why Buffy was feeling left out. “I’ll call her,” Dawn promised. “How did the surprise go?”

“It was successful,” Spike said, trying to sound as though it didn’t matter. Dawn knew better; he’d practically been bouncing with excitement before he’d left.

“I take it that Buffy enjoyed getting out in the sun with you,” Dawn teased.

Spike shrugged. “We didn’t get out much.”

“I’ll bet,” she replied with a smirk.

He fixed her with a glare. “You’re a bit too young for innuendo, luv.”

“I was old enough for innuendo a long time ago.” She glanced down at her books. “I should probably finish this. I’ve got some schedules to work out for Giles yet.”

“Forget about those,” Spike said suddenly. “Let’s get out for a bit, Nibblet.”

“Where?”

“Dunno, just out. We’ll go to the pub.”

Dawn hesitated for just a moment before making her decision. She’d learned all about lost opportunities in the past few years, and if she couldn’t have her sister around, hanging out with Spike was the next best thing.

“Sure,” she replied. “I can do this later.”

~~~~~

The weekend with Buffy had been too short, but Spike had expected that. They had made plans to meet up again in a few weeks, but at the moment that date seemed far off. The one bright spot was the fact that his relationship with Dawn was back on solid ground, and better than it had ever been.

“You still makin’ googly eyes at that Watcher?” Spike asked, taking a sip of his beer as Dawn devoured a sandwich.

She glared at him, pausing to swallow the bite she’d just taken. “I wasn’t making ‘googly eyes,’” she shot back. “We were working together.”

Spike grinned, pleased to be able to tease her. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. I hear that honey catches more flies than vinegar,” she replied. “Besides, dating a Watcher is probably not a good idea. Workplace romances can end up biting you in the ass, and if it does work out, it would probably end up being long distance.”

“It’s not ideal,” Spike agreed.

Dawn’s expression was sympathetic. “How are you two doing?”

“Good.” He shook his head ruefully. “We’re doin’ better than we ever have, an’ we’re hundreds of miles apart. I’m not sure what that says.”

“That you’re more mature now?” Dawn suggested, grinning.

It was his turn to glare, although he couldn’t exactly disagree with her. Spike thought that Dawn was probably right; he and Buffy had both changed over the years. Luckily for him, they’d grown closer, rather than further apart. “Yeah, well, looks like it’s goin’ to be awhile before we can take advantage of it.”

“Once we get more Slayers and Watchers trained, you guys can find a place to stay together,” Dawn suggested.

“If we keep losin’ Slayers before we can even get to them, we’re goin’ to have a hard time with that,” Spike responded.

Dawn sighed. “Yeah. Did Giles tell you that we’re having trouble getting into China? And Indonesia? There are at least five Slayers that we know of in those countries, and we can’t get to them.”

“That right?” Spike asked thoughtfully.

She frowned. “Do you know a way to get them out?”

“I might.” The plan was not even half-formed, but he had an idea. There was a good chance that the head Watcher would refuse to consider it; on the other hand, Spike thought that he might just go ahead and do it anyway. It wasn’t about who knew best anymore, it was about saving lives.

~~~~~

Giles had become used to having Spike around more quickly than he’d ever thought possible, particularly since he’d been none too certain that his plan for using his talents would work. Granted, Spike seemed to have an affinity for Slayers, but that didn’t mean he was the right one to train them.

In truth, Spike was perfect for the job. He was hard on them, but gentle enough with the younger ones that Giles hadn’t had any complaints. They had eight Slayers now, between the ages of eleven and eighteen; it seemed that puberty was a trigger, while eighteen was the cutoff. It was yet to be determined whether there would be new Slayers selected as younger girls aged.

If that was the case, Giles knew that they could easily be overwhelmed with pre-teens—not a prospect he relished.

As though his thoughts had summoned him, the brief knock on the door was shortly followed by Spike slipping into the room. “You got a minute?”

“I do,” Giles replied. “How was your weekend?”

Spike shrugged. “Nice enough. Bit short.”

“I’m sorry about that,” he said sincerely. “I realize that it’s an imposition on you both.”

“It is what it is,” Spike said philosophically. “Not why I’m here, anyway. Dawn tells me you’re havin’ trouble getting to some of the Slayers.”

Giles nodded. “There are countries we just can’t get into. We had the resources in the past, but we lost most of those, and the rest have been out of contact.”

“How do you feel about workin’ with demons?”

He blinked. “What?”

“Not the sort of demons that’ll suck a Slayer’s blood or marrow,” he clarified. “I’m talkin’ about the kind that would prefer to live an’ let live.”

Giles began to see what he was getting at. “How would that work?”

“Demons are used to getting places under the radar.” Spike leaned back in his chair. “I can think of a few clans who have access to those countries, an’ who would probably help you out in exchange for an agreement to let them alone.”

He began to clean his glasses. “I see.”

“You don’t like the idea,” Spike said in a flat tone. “You don’t think I can pull it off?”

“Somehow, I have no doubt that you can.” Giles’ mind was racing over the implications of making agreements with demons, friendly or not. Getting the older Watchers to agree to a peace treaty with demons of any sort would be problematic, but training Slayers introduced another wrinkle.

Black and white was always easier to teach than navigating the gray areas.

“What’s the problem?” Spike said, his tone even, although Giles could sense a kindling anger.

“The problem is that the older Watchers are highly unlikely to agree,” he replied. “And we’ll somehow have to get Slayers to believe that they’re safe with them, and how to distinguish between friend and foe.”

Spike’s eyebrow went up. “You should have been doin’ that all along.”

“Perhaps,” Giles agreed. “But what’s done is done. Even if we do change the training regimen, that will not prepare the new Slayers for being approached by a demon.”

“What other choice do you have?” Spike demanded. “An’ it’s not really your problem at that point. They’ll know what to do, and how to get their point across.”

Giles couldn’t believe that he was actually contemplating trusting demons with the welfare of a number of young Slayers, but Spike had a point. Demons lived in a shadow world that rarely touched their own. It was at least possible that they would have a better chance at finding the Slayers the Council hadn’t been able to reach.

“Can you set it up?”

“I can make inquiries,” Spike replied. “I’d need to go to London for a few days. Don’t know how many of my old contacts are around, but I might be able to find a couple.”

Giles nodded. “How much money will you need to get it done?”

His eyes widened slightly. “Uh, I’m not sure. Hadn’t really thought that far ahead, to be honest.”

Giles reached into his desk drawer and pulled out one of the Council’s credit cards. He didn’t give them out often or lightly; he made the purchases or delegated the task to someone else, but there weren’t many people he would entrust with what was essentially a blank check.

Spike took it with a look that demonstrated that he knew exactly what Giles was giving him. “An’ if they only take cash?”

“That’s for your expenses,” Giles explained. “If you need money to seal an agreement, just let me know. As to the details, you have carte blanche, within reason.”

“What’s ‘within reason?’”

“Don’t give away everything we’ve got,” Giles replied. “But I think you’ve got more brains than that.”

Spike nodded. “I’ll give you a call soon as I can to let you know what’s goin’ on.”

“I would appreciate it.” Giles took a deep breath. “What sort of demons are you thinking?”

“Brachen, maybe. They’re skilled buggers at avoiding customs an’ getting in an’ out without being seen. They’re clannish, but generally friendly.”

Giles nodded, satisfied. “And would be more than happy to have a deal with the Council, or to make it official. The Slayers have never sought to harm Brachens.”

“Listers might help out, too, an’ there are a couple of other types that might agree for a price.” Spike shook his head. “It’ll depend on who I can get hold of. Some of them won’t talk to half-breeds or humans. Takes all kinds, yeah?”

Giles nodded. “Yes, I suppose so. Do what you can, and let me know what you can.”

Spike rose. “I’ll leave immediately and be back as soon as I can. Audra can handle the girls for now.”

“Spike,” he called as the vampire turned the door handle. “Thank you. This may present the solution that we’re looking for, and it could save a number of lives.”

Spike nodded. “Yeah. No problem.”

He let out a long breath. He still thought it was a long shot, but there was at least the possibility of success—and that was more than he’d had a few hours before.

~~~~~

Miriam sat back in her chair, satisfied with how events were unfolding. Spike was doing exactly what she’d suspected he would, and she was grateful that her character assessment had been accurate. If it hadn’t been, they would have had to go back to the drawing board.

The seers among the coven had been keeping her apprised of the glimpses they caught of the future; she had two witches dedicated to finding Slayers, but she had another two who were assigned to periodically looking into the seeing bowl.

The bowl that Buffy had retrieved was sitting in front of her, waiting to be used, although not for the first time. The first time, she had seen Spike’s fate, and she had added a tracking spell to the ring she had already made. The second time, she had seen another Slayer and had passed the information along so that they could find her in time.

This time—this time she had been given a glimpse of how the world could end, if the appropriate steps were not taken.

Giles’ phone call had just assured her that those steps would be taken without her having to meddle. In the past, she’d found that it was easier if the future remained an unknown to those whose actions upon which it depended.

“Yes?” she called when she heard the knock on her workroom door.

One of the younger members of the coven poked her head in. “There’s a phone call for you, Miriam. Do you have time?”

“Who is it?”

“It’s Willow.”

“Put the call through,” Miriam directed. She smiled. Willow had been one of her best students, and had certainly been a success story. “Willow,” she said when the call came through. “It’s so nice to hear from you.”

“Likewise,” Willow responded. “I was calling to ask whether you had any additional information on the Slayers in our area.”

“Other than those you’ve already found, I count another one in Mexico and one in Guatemala,” Miriam said. “How is Zoë?”

“She wasn’t hurt too badly,” Willow responded. “And the venom seems to have run its course.”

“It’s good to know that our remedy is just as effective for Porenos demons as it is for Yneks. They’re close cousins, but we couldn’t be completely certain until it was tested.”

“And it’s not like you can just go out and poison someone to figure it out,” Willow replied wryly. “Thanks, Miriam.”

Miriam hesitated, then said, “I need some assistance.”

“Of course,” Willow replied without hesitation. “Anything you need.”

Miriam took a deep breath. “You may not like it.”

There was a pause, and Willow said. “I trust you.”

“Good. Because I need you to delay Buffy when the time comes.” Miriam knew how this had to be done, but she was fairly certain that her protégé wasn’t going to like it.


	14. Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

**“…Faith leaves for Los Angeles in two days. I have to admit that I’m going to miss her. I won’t miss Davis, but I’m glad that Giles is letting us keep Arnold and Rhoda. We need the extra help, even though the Demos problem is under control. Giles wants to set up a second school here, and a third in Cleveland…” ~Excerpt from an email from Willow Rosenberg to Xander Harris**

Zoë sat against the wall, watching the girls train. “Very good, Teresa,” she called as the girl executed a flying kick that sent Erna flying. “Erna, you’re dropping your guard on the left.”

“_Ja_,” Erna replied, sounding distracted. “I know.”

She turned her attention to Rute, who was sparring with Rhoda, while the two newest Slayers, Ximena and Gracia, practiced basic defense moves against one another. Zoë had been just in time to prevent Gracia from getting killed by a Polenas demon, and the resulting injury and poisoning had kept her in bed for a couple of days—once she got them both back to Rio.

There was something to be said for nearly dying in an attempt to protect a Slayer, though; it tended to build trust very quickly.

Davis and Arnold had been sent after the two Slayers that the coven had located, but that didn’t explain why Willow seemed to be upset and distracted. They had grown close quickly, and Zoë knew that not all was right. She’d been acting differently ever since the phone call with Miriam, and there was no way that it had anything to do with the two newly discovered Slayers.

She let them spar until it was obvious that Gracia and Ximena were ready to drop. “That’s enough,” she called. “Very good job, everyone. Very good.”

The local Slayers left in a group, chattering excitedly in a mixture of Portuguese and Spanish. Rhoda and Erna came to stand next to her. “How are you feeling?” Rhoda asked solicitously.

“I’m completely back to normal,” Zoë assured her, rising a little stiffly. One of the longer term side effects of the venom was stiffness in the joints, but that would pass in time. “I’ll be fine.”

“I wish I was staying here,” Erna said wistfully. “I swear, I could kill Davis some day.”

Zoë winced but couldn’t argue. The man was nearly as annoying as Kennedy had been, and that was saying something.

“Before you do, call one of us,” Rhoda said. “We’ll convince Giles to assign Davis to Antarctica or something.”

“There are no Slayers there,” Erna replied.

Rhoda grinned broadly. “Exactly.”

Zoë laughed, unable to help herself. “You could always adjust his attitude yourself, Erna.”

“Don’t tempt me,” she replied. “I should shower. Rhoda?”

The two girls walked off arm in arm, their heads bent together, dark hair contrasting with light. Zoë couldn’t help but feel proud of what they were creating here; the camaraderie was very real, and it felt right, although there were times when the sheer number of girls was a bit overwhelming.

She passed by the study and caught sight of Willow sitting behind the desk, her head in her hands. Slipping inside as quietly as she could, Zoë eased the door shut behind her. “What’s wrong, Willow?”

“Nothing,” the witch replied, shaking her head. “How are you?”

Zoë wasn’t about to be thrown off the scent. “You’ve been out of sorts since you called Miriam other day,” she observed, taking a seat across from the other woman. “Would you like to tell me about it?”

“Miriam asked me to hurt my best friend,” Willow began. “What’s worse is that I agreed to do it.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” Zoë said carefully.

Willow shook her head. “I don’t think I do either. Miriam made me promise not to talk about it, and I don’t know much more than that. From what she said, Buffy’s life is going to depend on it, but the consequences to someone else are going to be devastating.”

Zoë shook her head. “The sight is notoriously unreliable, Willow. There’s no telling what will actually happen in the future. Things may change drastically.”

“She saw it in the bowl that Buffy got,” Willow said ruefully. “It always gives a true sight, and it won’t show anything at all if the future is too open.”

Zoë winced, knowing that with those odds, she wouldn’t want to be the one entrusted with the task. “It’s a long way off. Perhaps there will be a way to manage at the time.”

“Maybe.” Willow’s tone was dubious. “It’s possible.” She summoned a smile. “How are the girls coming along?”

~~~~~

Faith had to admit that she was profoundly grateful that her plan for dealing with the Demos had been successful—success being measured by lots of dead demons and no dead Slayers or Watchers. She walked into the burned-out shell of the building that they had controlled up to a few days ago and knew they wouldn’t be back. Even better, Willow’s shielding spell had prevented the fire from damaging any of the nearby buildings.

She’d excused herself from the afternoon training session to see a little of the city, not knowing when the opportunity to see Rio would come up again. Faith wanted to enjoy the sun and sights for just a little while; she wanted to walk the beach and watch the people. Prison had taught her a new appreciation of nature.

When she returned to the training center, Faith was feeling sunburned and relaxed, and definitely ready for the next adventure.

“How was your walk?” Zoë asked as she entered the study.

Faith shrugged. “Good. I don’t know when I’ll be back, so I wanted to see a few of the sights.”

“Makes sense,” Willow responded. “Arnold called tonight. He has his Slayer and should be back tomorrow.”

“Davis?” Faith asked, only caring about his fate because he represented another soldier, and he was responsible for the welfare of a Slayer.

Zoë shook her head. “He hasn’t checked in yet, but it’s hard to say whether that means trouble, or if it’s just him.”

Faith shrugged. “He’ll get knocked down a peg or two eventually. He was almost civil by the time we routed the Demos.”

“They’ll probably be back,” was Zoë’s glum opinion. “Where there’s a vacuum, there’s usually someone willing to fill it.”

Faith grunted, knowing that the Watcher was probably right, and that there wasn’t anything they could do to change it. The only thing to do was to keep fighting and hope it made enough of a difference.

“Giles called,” Willow inserted, changing the subject. “He wanted you to contact him when you got in.”

Faith glanced at the clock. “It’s going to be late there, right?”

Willow shook her head. “He didn’t care. There are some instructions he has for you regarding Angel and Wesley.”

She frowned. “What instructions? He already told me I need to pump Angel for information and recruit Wes. I have a feeling that it’s going to be a pain in the ass to do either one of those things, let alone both.”

Willow looked sympathetic, but shrugged. “All I know is what Giles told me.” She looked unhappy. “I have a feeling there’s a lot going on that Giles and the coven aren’t telling us.”

“Can you blame them?” Zoë asked gently. “You know as well as I do that he’s trying to put out fires all over the world. Keeping us all informed of every new development would simply be impossible.”

“It’s not that,” Willow quickly said. “It’s the big things.”

“Like what?” Faith asked suspiciously.

“Secret missions,” she replied. “Secrets in general. I don’t know. It’s just a feeling; maybe it doesn’t mean anything.”

Faith had developed a healthy respect for Willow’s instincts; the girl was smart and a hell of a witch. If there was a disturbance in the Force, she’d be the first to know about it. “I’ll keep my ears open and let you know what goes down in L.A.,” she promised.

Willow took a deep breath. “I’d appreciate it. I’m still really curious about that amulet. The coven hasn’t been able to do much with it yet.”

“Yeah, sure. I should probably call Giles before it gets any later, though.”

“Make the call from in here.” Zoë’s tone made it more of a suggestion than her words indicated. “It’ll be more private that way.”

When Faith nodded, the other two women left the room, and she dialed the familiar number. It was strange to think that she had the head Watcher’s phone number memorized at this point, but then she often found it strange that she was an active Slayer again, and not behind bars.

“Hello?” Giles’ voice was groggy, and she winced, knowing that she’d woken him up.

“It’s Faith. Willow said you wanted me to call.”

“I did say that, didn’t I?” he muttered. “It seemed like a good idea a few hours ago.”

“I can call back later,” she offered.

Giles sighed. “No, I’m awake now, and I did want you to call when you could. I need you to do your best to make sure that Angel hasn’t gone over to the other side. I realize that you two are close, but it’s imperative that we ensure that he won’t eventually be an enemy.”

Faith didn’t like the sound of that, but she had to admit that Giles had a point. She’d met Angelus, and she had no desire to do so again. “You got it, Giles. I knew that already, though.”

“Yes, well, there’s something else.”

“Isn’t there always?”

“It’s possible that Wolfram and Hart would be in possession of other artifacts like the amulet that could be of some help, or that they would have a better, faster way of locating Slayers. I’d like you to find out as much as you can.”

Faith was a little dubious of her abilities in that realm. “I doubt Angel’s going to let me rummage around in his vault.”

“Have Wesley help you,” Giles responded. “And impress upon him the idea that we need him desperately. We simply do not have enough trained Watchers.”

It was pretty obvious that Giles didn’t know Wes all that well; Faith was pretty sure that just telling him that the Council wanted him to come back wasn’t going to be enough, although she wasn’t sure what would be. “I’ll do what I can.”

“That’s all I ask, Faith. And be careful. If Angel does present a risk—”

“I can take care of myself,” she said, cutting him off, knowing what he wanted to say. She’d refused to kill Angelus the last time she’d been in L.A., and her feelings on the matter hadn’t changed.

“Of course. Take care.”

His tone was stiff, and she felt a pang of regret for being short. “I’ll keep you informed.”

“See that you do. Good luck.”

The dial tone echoed in her ear, and Faith put the phone down, wondering if she really knew what she was doing. Shrugging, she rose from the desk and decided that the only thing to do was to hope for the best.

Flying by the seat of her pants seemed to be the only approach in a situation like this, and planning had never really been her thing, anyway.

~~~~~

Willow returned from the airport to find Davis and Zoë already at loggerheads. With Faith gone, there seemed to be a power vacuum he insisted on filling, and he was using his age and experience to hammer his point home.

“I don’t see the point of this,” Zoë said angrily. “We were doing quite well without you.”

“I think we both know who’s more qualified to take charge here,” Davis shot back. “Now that Faith is gone—”

“I’m in charge,” Willow stated flatly. “Neither one of you have seven years on a Hellmouth, which makes me the most experienced.” She threw an apologetic look at Zoë, who shrugged.

Davis wasn’t quite so sanguine. “You’re no Watcher.”

“No, but I could turn you into a toad,” she shot back, ignoring the giggles from the Slayers who were looking on. “I think that means that I win. Besides, Giles has a new assignment for you. If you’d checked in, you would know that already.” Willow took a deep breath. “Would you like to introduce me to the new Slayer?”

Linda spoke fluent, if heavily accented, English, and it was immediately clear that she didn’t care much for Davis. Willow knew that they were short on Watchers, but Davis was doing more harm than good at present. Giles had indicated that his next assignment would keep him out of trouble, but she had no idea how that was going to work.

When Davis had gone off to call Giles—probably to complain about her high-handed approach—Willow turned to Zoë. “Sorry about that.”

The woman shook her head. “Don’t worry about it, Willow. When you get right down to it, someone has to be in charge, and I know you won’t abuse the power.”

There might have been a point when she would have, but Willow knew that the blonde Watcher was right. She’d long since realized the importance of teamwork. “I hope not,” was all she said. “Have you finished the training session?” she asked, glancing at the darkened window. “If so, I think it might be time to patrol.”

Willow let Zoë divide the girls up into teams; she had been doing most of the training, and she knew their strengths and weaknesses better than Willow did. She did note that Zoë went with the group with the newest Slayer, and paired the other girls with either Erna or Rhoda. Everyone was likely safer that way.

When they had gone, Willow went to the office, where Davis was still on the phone with Giles. She stood at the doorway, listening to Davis’ side of the conversation. It was clear that he was protesting his treatment, and equally clear that Giles was giving him very short shrift.

He hung up the phone, muttering curses in German under his breath. Although Willow didn’t speak German, she didn’t need to; she could understand well enough from his tone. “The Council isn’t the same anymore.”

Davis whirled to face her. “Were you eavesdropping?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” she replied, not quite answering his question. “Where is Giles sending you and Erna?”

Davis glared at her, but responded anyway. “Back to England, then to Germany. We’re to replace Buffy and the other Slayer there.”

“Vi,” Willow filled in. “That’s one of your problems, you know.”

“I have no problem.”

“Don’t you?” she inquired. “You’re unhappy with how the Council is being run, that the people in charge are Slayers and amateurs.”

His face hardened. “So what if I am?”

“You’ll get yourself and others killed with that attitude,” Willow shot back. “Maybe Watchers were supposed to look out for their Slayers before, but now they look out for each other. Things have changed, and the sooner you figure that out, the happier you’ll be.”

His face flushed. “My family has served the Council for centuries,” he replied in a low voice. “I trained for years, studied hard to be given my own potential.”

“And now you have a Slayer, and you’re completely alienating her.” Willow sighed. “Just think about it, okay? Because if you can’t work as a team, you’ll both be killed.”

Davis turned away. “I don’t wish to talk about it further.”

“Suit yourself,” Willow muttered, turning to leave the room.

She comforted herself with the knowledge that Davis’ presence in Munich would allow Buffy to return to England and Spike. From the few conversations and emails she’d shared with her friend, Willow knew how hard the separation had been on her.

Willow sighed. She’d been missing Tara again recently, her breakup with Kennedy reminding her of the other poor decisions she’d made that had led to her last broken relationship. The circumstances were completely different, of course, but Willow couldn’t help but think that she’d used Kennedy to mask the grief she’d still been feeling.

Closing the door of her bedroom behind her, Willow let the grief roll over her again, taking just a moment to wallow before pulling out the magic book she’d been using to research spells that could come in handy. As powerful as she was, that didn’t mean she could skip practicing, and there were that many more people relying on her now.

She was determined not to fail.


	15. Pretoria, South Africa

**“…Buffy told me what you were doing and said I should let you know if we needed any help. I don’t know what to tell you. If there are friendly demons in the area, I haven’t met any. We have our hands full with the ones that keep coming after the girls now that our location is generally known. The rooms are filling up, though, so if you have any ideas, I’ll take whatever help I can get…” ~Excerpt from an email from Xander Harris to Spike**

Xander had sparred with Buffy in the past, with and without the puffy suit—at least, he’d held the punching bag for her. He’d never sparred with a Slayer full out with half of his peripheral vision missing.

Thankfully, most of their girls were only half grown, and barely trained, so he could still keep up. Mostly.

Nàtali danced on her toes in celebration of her hit, and Xander took the moment to rap her lightly on her ribs. “Pay attention, kiddo,” he warned her. “Make sure the demon is dead before you start dancing.”

She nodded, serious again, gripping her staff tightly. “Ready.”

“Good job, Nàtali,” Miles called. “Xander, could I see you for a moment?”

Xander passed his staff off to Corey. “Take over?”

“Sure thing.” She took it from his hands. “Have fun, big guy.”

He followed the older Watcher out the training room door, leaving the sounds of sparring behind them. “What’s up?”

“You had asked me to look into the vampire’s suggestion,” Miles began.

Xander winced. Miles hadn’t been happy about his request, and he’d made that very clear. “It’s Spike, Miles. He has a name.”

“Xander, he’s a vampire.”

“He saved the world.” Xander wasn’t Spike biggest fan, but he wasn’t going to withhold credit where it was due—and Spike was one of them. No one knew what those final days in Sunnydale had been like except those who had been there, and Spike had been there.

And Xander hadn’t forgotten that Spike had been the one to save his other eye.

Miles sighed. “I realize that, Xander. Give an old man his due; I’ve been fighting vampires since long before you were born, and now I’m being asked to trust one.”

“If you can’t trust him, trust me,” Xander replied. “I’ve gone through the fire with him.”

“Very well. Then, for you, I will say that there is a demon clan in the area that may prove helpful.” Miles shook his head. “They aren’t particularly bloodthirsty, but I don’t know what you’d want their help with.”

“Guard duty?” Xander suggested. “Or even help finding Slayers. You remember what nearly happened in the Sudan.”

He and Corey had nearly been killed by a band of guerrillas while trying to retrieve the most recent Slayer, and extra muscle would have come in handy. There were simply some areas of the continent where even demon hunters couldn’t go lightly.

“Point,” Miles admitted reluctantly. “I will contact them for you if you’d like.”

“Can you arrange a meeting for me?” Xander wanted to do this himself, although he couldn’t have said why. Normally, he didn’t want much to do with demons, but what Spike had said made a lot of sense. Beggars couldn’t be choosers at this point, and they needed all the help they could get.

Miles nodded, looking reluctant. “I’ll do what I can.”

“I’d appreciate it.” Xander put a hand on the older man’s shoulder. “It’s a different world we’re living in now, Miles.”

Miles’ eyes looked off into the middle distance. “Yes. Sometimes I don’t even recognize it.”

Xander could relate to that statement.

~~~~~

Corey watched Xander gear up from the doorway of his bedroom. She wondered how long it was going to be until he accepted the fact that she was right there, and completely into him. Then again, given what she knew of his history, she understood his hesitance.

“I’m going with you,” she announced.

“I think it’s better if I go alone.” He didn’t look at her as he secured the knife sheath on his belt.

She snorted. “Don’t be stupid, Xander. If you go by yourself, and they try something, you won’t have a prayer of getting out alive.”

“Are you doubting my abilities?”

“I’m saying that you’ve been drilling it into the girls’ heads that they should always have backup, and that you shouldn’t be immune from that general rule.”

He turned finally. “I don’t want to risk you. If something happened to both of us—”

“That’s why I’m going—to make sure nothing happens to either of us,” Corey returned. “And Whit and Miles will be on standby. I don’t think there’s anything else we _can_ do, Xan.”

His shoulders drooped, and Corey knew what kind of battle he was fighting. Xander couldn’t protect everyone, however; he knew that, but he sometimes needed the reminder. Considering how many friends he’d lost, Corey didn’t blame him.

“We’re going to come through this,” she insisted.

After a moment, he stood straight again. “Yeah, we are. Let’s see what these guys have to say.”

Corey wasn’t entirely comfortable with this idea; she had been trained from very early on to kill demons without asking questions. She had never before been concerned about whose side they were on, maybe because if a demon was trying to kill you or destroy the world, there wasn’t a lot of question. Now, however, things were different. If they were going to make allies with demons, they had to make tough decisions.

Could they be trusted, and if so, how far? What kinds of demons could be trusted, and if they made friends with one clan, would that necessitate making enemies of another? In general, humans and demons didn’t mix, and there were good reasons for that.

There were far too many unanswered questions for her peace of mind, but that was the world they lived in now.

Corey stood next to Xander in the center of the plain that the demons had chosen for their meeting. It was close to the school, which she wasn’t comfortable with, but as their location seemed to be common knowledge, it probably wouldn’t do any harm.

“Aren’t they supposed to be here by now?” she whispered to him.

He glanced over at her. “Yeah, but I’m not going to tell them that they’re late.”

She snorted. “I wouldn’t suggest it.”

Scanning the horizon again, Corey saw no one, although she knew that Miles and Whit weren’t too far off. They remained hidden, but within visual range, in case they were needed. As she scanned the horizon again, she suddenly noticed three figures in the distance, approaching rapidly.

If she hadn’t known better, Corey would have thought that they were Masai warriors, but there was something inhuman in the way they moved. They seemed to be jogging at a steady pace, but they covered the distance much faster than seemed possible.

The demons moved so quickly, in fact, that they were standing in front of her and Xander much sooner than she’d been prepared for. There was a long moment of silence as they stared at one another.

Miles had said that the demons were known as Oribi, and that they generally shunned human contact. There was little to set them apart from humans, although their skin was a shade of brown she’d rarely seen before, and they each had light colored circles around their eyes.

Although the Oribi were visually striking, Corey still thought that they could probably walk down the street of any major city without drawing too much attention to themselves. Not that Corey blamed them for wanting to avoid people; she wasn’t a big fan of them herself sometimes.

“You requested a meeting,” the center Oribi finally stated.

Xander nodded curtly. “We would like to make an alliance.” He spoke formally, which the situation seemed to call for. The Oribi’s expressions were such that it seemed like they would appreciate that kind of tone.

“Why?” The demon looked skeptical—or that was Corey’s interpretation. “You wish to kill my kind.”

Xander shook his head. “No. We want to protect ourselves. If you don’t threaten us, we don’t have a problem with you.”

The Oribi shook his head. “We have nothing to share with you.”

They turned as one to go, and Corey burst out, “What would you like from us?”

Her words stopped them cold. “There is nothing you could offer.”

“Why wouldn’t you want an alliance?” Corey demanded. “You like this world; you need it as much as we do.”

They turned again to face her, dark eyes brilliant against the white of the circles around their eyes. “What is it that you are saying?”

This time, the one on the left spoke, and Corey thought that perhaps she had been intrigued. “We’re trying to make sure the world doesn’t become uninhabitable for all of us. Without everyone’s help, the entire world could be lost.”

“What you ask is difficult.” The Oribi who had spoken to her said. “We do not make pacts with humans.”

“Don’t think of it as making a pact with us,” Corey argued. “Think of it as making a pact with your children, to preserve their future.”

She knew she’d hit the right note when she saw their faces soften. “What is it you require?”

“We need help gathering the young ones,” Corey admitted. “They’re often in areas where it’s too dangerous for us to go, and there are assassins coming after us. We want to protect them, and we want to help you. Is there anything that we can do?”

The female Obiri considered her question. “We will discuss this and let you know.”

They were gone before Corey could even ask for their names. As soon as they were out of even supernatural earshot, Xander spoke. “Okay, you’re handling demon contact from now on. How did you know to say all of that?”

Corey shook her head. “I don’t know. I just said what I would have wanted to hear if I was in that position.”

“That seems to have done the trick.” Xander put an arm around her shoulders and squeezed her tight. “Great job, Corey. Really. If we can get some help from them, we’ll have a better chance at getting the girls to safety without getting killed.”

She smiled shyly. “They haven’t agreed to the deal yet.”

Xander shook his head. “They will. It’s just a matter of time.”

~~~~~

Whit didn’t know what to think about the latest developments. He understood why they were contacting demons to help, but he’d been raised to believe that the only good demon was a dead demon. “What do you think about this?” he asked Miles, watching as the demons disappeared into the distance.

They moved inhumanly fast; it disturbed him. Demons were different, strange—other. Whit didn’t see how they could possibly trust them.

“I think this is one of those times when we are forced to make choices we wouldn’t otherwise make,” Miles replied slowly, lowering the high powered rifle from his shoulder.

“Do you think that this is actually a good idea?” Whit asked incredulously.

Miles shook his head. “I honestly don’t know, lad. Perhaps it will turn out for the best.”

“But you don’t think it will.”

“I don’t know,” Miles repeated.

Whit let out a frustrated breath. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

“What would you like me to say?” The older Watcher turned to face him. “That we shouldn’t be trusting demons?”

“Yes,” Whit burst out.

Miles smiled. “I can’t tell you that. There is very little in this world that is either black or white, good or evil.”

“Then how will we know?” Whit gestured to the horizon where the demons had disappeared. “How can we possibly trust them?”

He smiled gently. “Whit, lad, you can’t trust humans either. There were and are many who would side with evil to promote their own gains.”

That wasn’t exactly news to him; Whit knew that humans were anything but perfect. It was just that there seemed to be far too many hard answers, and far too few easy ones. Just once he wanted a bright line rule, some way to know for sure.

Whit was smart enough to know that such a thing wasn’t possible.

“What do we do?”

Miles handed him the rifle and picked up his cane. “We do our best, Whit, my boy. That’s all anyone can do.”

Whit was silent, not responding to that piece of advice. He knew that Miles wasn’t being condescending, nor was he treating the question lightly, but it didn’t satisfy. When they returned to the school, he called out to Xander, “Do we need anything from town?”

Xander gave him a sharp look, but shrugged. “We could probably stand to pick up a few things. Check with Corey for a list.”

“Can I go, too?” Emily asked. “I have some letters I want to mail.”

Xander glanced at Corey, who shrugged. “I don’t see why not. You two stick together, though.”

“Of course,” Whit replied, grateful that Xander was letting him go off with Emily after what had happened last time. Granted, those had been very different circumstances.

He slid behind the wheel of the Land Rover with a sigh of satisfaction. Whit had been driving since he was twelve out in the country. His parents had taught him, and Whit’s memories of those times were brilliant.

Being back behind the wheel brought some of that back.

“I guess my dad won’t be the one teaching me how to drive,” Emily said as she climbed into the passenger seat with Corey’s list and her letters.

Whit glanced over at her. “Why is that?”

“Because they’ll probably go back to the States after this year, and I’m staying here,” she responded. “Dad told me that in his last letter.”

“I thought they were missionaries.”

“They are.” Emily sighed. “Dad’s blood pressure is really high, and my siblings are in the States. Mom doesn’t understand why I’m here, and I think it would be easier for her if I was on the other side of the world, you know?”

“She’s got to be proud of what you’re doing,” Whit objected. “You’re fighting evil. That’s more than most ever do.”

Emily shook her head. “That’s not how she sees it. Dad understands, but…”

“It’s weird, huh? Getting immersed into this world?” Whit asked. “I mean, I’ve grown up in it, but it has to be strange suddenly being here.”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Emily sighed. “I just wish that she didn’t think that what I have is evil.”

“Why would it be evil?”

“Because I see things, awful things.” She forced a smile. “Let’s talk about something else, okay? I want some time just to be me for a while.”

“You got it,” Whit replied. “Is there anywhere you want to go?”

“Is there a bookstore?”

“Yeah, Em. I wouldn’t mind browsing a little.” Whit smiled, happy that this, at least, was simple.

~~~~~

Xander stood in the doorway of Corey’s makeshift office, watching as she worked to balance the books. They had a budget, although Giles was fairly free with the money, as long as it was put to good use. A lot of the girls had come to them with little but the clothes on their backs, and Nàtali hadn’t even had shoes that fit.

They had quickly established that he was not well suited to be in charge of balancing the checkbook.

“Hey.”

She looked up and smiled at him. “Hey yourself. Did Emily and Whit get back yet?”

“Just a few minutes ago. They both looked pretty pleased with themselves, and Emily had about half a dozen books.” Xander shook his head. “I think a few of them were for the other girls to share.”

“She’s a good girl.” Corey leaned back in her chair. “You didn’t come in here just to tell me that.”

Xander shook his head. “No, I didn’t. I’ve been thinking.”

“Has it been so very difficult for you?”

“Very funny,” he replied, nearly losing his nerve. “Look, do you want to have dinner with me sometime?”

Corey’s eyebrows went up. “We have dinner together every night.”

“You know what I mean,” Xander said, ready to turn and run.

She grinned at him. “Sorry, I had to give you a hard time.”

“So, would you have dinner with me?”

“Of course.” Her smile was brilliant, and it made his stomach flip. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask.”

Xander felt as though his life was about to begin again.


	16. London, England

**“…I’ve had some success here. The Lister are on board, and they’re working with another group in Indonesia to reach that Slayer the coven reported was there. They’ll notify us when they’ve contacted her. I’m still working with the Brachen. They’re being a bit more stubborn, but I think they’ll come around…” ~Excerpt from an email from Spike to Rupert Giles**

Spike picked himself up off the ground slowly, reflecting that he hadn’t been kicked out of a demon bar since Sunnydale, just after he’d begun helping the Slayer for cash—unless he counted the bar yesterday, or the one the day before that. Word had apparently spread that he was trying to recruit for the Slayers, and no sooner did he enter a demon hangout than he was on the street again.

He might have given up, had it not been for his natural stubbornness, and his knowledge of how important this endeavor was. Willow was making headway reaching out to some of the demons in South America, and Xander was doing the same in Africa. Spike was _not_ going to be shown up.

Wiping the blood off his lip with the back of his hand, he spat on the ground, wondering how long it would be before he could get blood again. If the demon bars weren’t going to grant him entrance, he might have to head back to Bath, just to get fed. The girls probably needed their teacher anyway.

“Are you Spike?”

The voice came from the deep shadows next to the building, and Spike’s eyes narrowed. “That depends on who’s doin’ the asking.”

“I’ve been hearing rumors that you wanted to see me—or us, I should say.” The demon that stepped out into the dim light from the streetlamp was definitely a Brachen. They were impossible to miss, with the green skin and blue spikes.

He nodded. “That’s right. Why didn’t you come forward inside?”

“Because my kind isn’t exactly welcome.” In a split second, the demon looked like an average young man out for a drink at the pub. “We’re half-breeds.”

Spike looked him up and down, then smiled. “Yeah? Join the club.”

“My name is Johnny Owen.” He held out a hand for Spike to shake, moving away from the building. “I’ve been hearing about you.”

“I’ve been lookin’ for you or someone like you for the last two weeks,” Spike replied. “The Listers jumped on board right away. I think you know that.”

Johnny shook his head. “We needed to be cautious. I’m sorry, but half-breeds aren’t generally welcome, and there have been a few attempts to purge demon kind of the taint.”

“Yeah? Anything recent?” Spike asked, concerned.

He nodded. “A few. It’s one of the reasons that the Listers joined up so quickly. You promised protection. I want to know if you’ll agree to the same deal once you know what you’re really up against.”

Spike could understand his concern. Humans weren’t exactly known for keeping their promises, particularly within the demon world. Then again, most of those who operated in that shadow world weren’t the sort you’d trust in the first place. “Tell me all you want, but I think that your enemies would be the same as ours. Purebreds don’t hesitate to kill humans, an’ they’d overrun the world if they could.”

“That’s why we decided to approach you.”

“An’ it’s just you?” Spike asked. “No offense, mate, but you seem a bit young for that.”

Johnny smiled. “Yeah, well, I’m just the scout. If you want to meet the real person in charge, we can.” He glanced at Spike. “We have food, if you’re hungry.”

“Food, or—”

“Beverage, I guess you’d call it.”

Spike hesitated, wondering if this was a trap. It didn’t seem to be, but he hadn’t lived this long by being stupid. Then again, there didn’t seem to be much of a choice if he was really going to strike a deal. “Lead on, Johnny-boy.”

He only hoped that he didn’t regret it.

~~~~~

The room was filled with demons; Spike couldn’t smell a human in the bunch, although he could easily see that there were a number of half breeds. The man—or demon—he was there to see was standing in the middle of the crowd, his dull gray hair cut short.

“Arless?” Johnny called.

Silence fell over the room, and everyone turned to stare at them. Spike usually didn’t mind being the center of attention, but at the moment, he was feeling rather nervous. “I see you found the vampire.”

“Yeah. He said he was willing to listen.”

Arless turned to one of the young demons who stood next to him. “Get something for our guest to eat, please.”

“I appreciate it,” Spike said.

Arless nodded. “You are Spike?”

“That would be me.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “I hear you have some concerns about whether or not we’ll fulfill our end of the bargain.”

Arless motioned him towards the back of the large room. “Let’s speak in private.”

A murmur went up from among those gathered, and Spike got the impression that not everyone was happy with his presence there, or the deal they might possibly strike. He ignored them, however, and followed Arless back.

“Johnny told me you lot were having problems with the purebreds,” Spike commented as they reached the leather and wood study.

“You could say that,” Arless replied. “We dealt with the Scourge some years ago. You’ve heard of them?”

Spike took the proffered seat. “They have a reputation.”

The demon’s smile was grim. “Indeed.”

“I haven’t heard that the Scourge was active again.”

“There are always groups that seek to take their place,” Arless responded. “We’ve had a few problems recently. Several of our number have been assaulted, and two have been killed.”

“What do you want from me?”

“I want your guarantee that once we do what you want us to, you won’t forget about us, and leave us to our enemies.” Arless’ red eyes were piercing.

Spike stared down at the desk for a long moment, knowing that this was a key moment in the negotiations. He couldn’t lie to the other demon; there was no way he could guarantee that the Council wouldn’t abandon the Brachen when everything was said and done—but there was something he could promise.

“I can’t tell you that,” Spike admitted. “I don’t run the Council, but I can promise that _I_ won’t forget. If you get no one else, you’ll get me. That might not count for anythin’ with you, but it’s what I can do.”

“Do you not have any influence with the Council?” the Brachen asked.

Spike shrugged. “Hard to say, but my girlfriend is _the_ Slayer, an’ I imagine that she’ll back me.”

“That is good enough for me.” Arless leaned back in his chair. “You have our aid, Spike.”

He nodded. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“You’ll let us know what we can do?”

Spike nodded. “Yeah, I’ll—” He felt the cell phone vibrate against his chest. “Sorry. I have to take this.”

He flipped open the phone and answered brusquely. “Yeah?”

“Spike, we have a situation.”

“What kind of situation?”

Giles’ voice was as terse as his own. “There’s a Slayer in London. Miriam just called me. They’ve seen her in the bowl, being attacked by a group of demons.”

“Where?”

“Dawn will text directions to your cell phone,” Giles replied. “Can you go?”

“I’m on my way.” He snapped the phone shut and rose. “Sorry to cut this short, but I’ve got a situation.”

“Anything we can help you with?”

Spike hesitated for only a moment, before deciding that he could use all the help he could get, considering that he had no idea what he was getting himself into. Not that it had stopped him in the past. “Only if you have a few people who can handle weapons in a fight.”

“One moment.”

“Only one,” Spike warned, heading towards the front door.

He had no idea how Arless managed to do it, but by the time he stepped outside, there were four Brachen demons on his heels, all of them carrying weapons. Johnny was one of them, and he pointed at a group of motorcycles. “There’s one you can borrow. Where are we heading?”

Spike held out his cell phone so that Johnny could see the screen. The young man nodded. “I know where that is.”

“I’ll follow you, then,” Spike replied. He was familiar with London, but it had been a long time, and Johnny was more of a native than he was at this point. “Go.”

They set off at a rate of speed that would have frightened anyone but a demon or a vampire. The demons that had accompanied him were expert drivers, and they all wove in and out of traffic in tandem, each close on the back wheel of the rider just ahead of them.

Spike caught sight of the intersection Dawn had indicated, and he skidded to a stop, leaping off the bike and heading towards the alley. He could hear the sounds of demonic laughter, and he grimaced, realizing that he had little more than a stake and a knife on him. Then again, he was a vampire; he always had his weapons.

There were four demons in the alley, and they had cornered a young teenage girl who looked about fifteen. She was clutching a broken board, and although she looked scared, she also looked determined. Spike leapt atop a bin and somersaulted over the tops of the demons’ heads, landing between them and the girl.

“Back off,” he warned.

They laughed again, clearly not seeing him as a threat. Spike had no idea what they were, which was strange for him. He generally had no trouble figuring out what sort of enemy he was facing, and where he needed to hit for maximum impact.

One of the Brachen hit a demon from behind with a spiked baseball bat. When the demon sank to its knees, Spike felt a heavy pipe being pressed into his hand from behind. He risked a quick glance over his shoulder and saw the girl give him a feral grin.

He grinned back, realizing that they’d found a girl who was going to make a bloody good Slayer. Wielding the pipe now, Spike threw himself into the fight with a will. Between his pipe, and the bats and other heavy instruments that the Brachens had, they made quick work of them.

“Thanks, mates,” he said when the last demon lay dead.

“It was fun,” Johnny replied with a grin, shaking off the green skin and spikes.

“We’re off,” one of the other demons said. “You’ll give us a call if you need something else?”

Johnny nodded. “Sure thing.” He turned back to Spike. “You need anything else?”

“Not tonight, but we’ll need to talk later. I’ve got to—”

“I get it.” Johnny nodded at the bike. “Bring it by when you can.”

“Tomorrow,” Spike promised, watching as he left, then turning back to the young Slayer, who was watching him with interest. “You okay, kid?”

“I’m good. You got a name?”

Her accent was about as Cockney as it got, and Spike bit back a smirk at the way she sauntered forward, clearly thinking that she was hot stuff. “Spike. You?”

“It’s Talia,” the girl replied. “You’re not human.”

“I’m a vampire,” Spike replied. “You got a problem with that?”

“You going to try to kill me?” she asked.

“Not unless you prove to be really irritating.”

She grinned. “Yeah, talk to my parents about that.” Talia’s chin lifted. “So, what’s a vampire doing saving me?”

“You know what you are?”

“I know I’m sodding strong.” Talia shrugged. “The dreams told me the rest.”

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Is that right?”

“Yeah, that’s right. Thanks for saving my life.” She moved closer, clearly trying to flirt with him—rather clumsily.

Spike smirked. “It’s part of the job. I’ll walk you home.”

Talia shrugged. “They won’t notice if I don’t show up. We could go somewhere and you could buy me a drink.”

He couldn’t resist. Spike started laughing. “Yeah, pet. That’ll be the day.” He shook his head. “I think we’d better discuss schools.”

Talia made a face. “Schools?”

“It’s a special school,” Spike replied. “Heavy on the weaponry and light on the math.”

The Slayer brightened up at that. “Now you’re talking.”

~~~~~

Spike leaned back in his seat on the train with a sense of accomplishment. Not only had he saved the Slayer, but he’d also convinced her parents to send her to Bath. Giles was supposed to send one of the witches from the coven to pick her up. Granted, convincing her parents hadn’t been much of a challenge; they hadn’t been able to wash their hands of her fast enough.

He honestly couldn’t wait for her to give Giles a hard time. Talia was going to be a handful, and he was looking forward to it.

Spike had always enjoyed a challenge.

His cell phone buzzed, and he picked it up immediately. “Yeah?”

“Spike?”

“Hey, Buffy.” He smiled. “How’s it going?”

“I hear congratulations are in order.” There was a smile in her voice. “Giles said you clinched the deal.”

“We’re goin’ to have a visitor in about a week to talk details,” Spike replied. “The agreement should be nailed down by then.”

“That’s great, Spike. He said you rescued a Slayer, too.”

“Talia, age fifteen, an’ her parents were definitely relieved to be sendin’ her off to boarding school.”

“You sound happy about that.”

“I’m always happy when I know Rupes is goin’ to be havin’ a hard time,” Spike replied. “You haven’t met this bint yet, luv. She’s somethin’.”

“Oh? You sound like you’re fond of her already.”

“She reminds me of your sis at that age,” Spike admitted. “She’s got some spunk to her.”

Buffy let out a laugh. “Yeah, that figures. I’m coming back to Bath.”

“When?”

“Today, actually. Davis and Erna showed up yesterday, and since they’re my replacements, we’re heading back. Are you going to be there?”

“For you, I’ll be anywhere,” Spike promised. “I can hide from your Watcher for a few days. We can head up to the Lake District, maybe rent a place. We’ll sleep all day an’ shag all night.”

“I love you.”

“I know you do. I’ll see you later, luv.” He paused. “I love you, too.”

The call ended, and Spike tucked his phone away, the smile on his face widening. A job well done, and his Slayer by his side at the end of the day.

His eyes drifted shut, and Spike fell into a peaceful sleep.


	17. New Council Headquarters, Bath, England

**“…I’m not exactly sure what you want me to do, Robin. The developing situation in Los Angeles requires me to send several capable Slayers. Willow is stretched thin enough as it is, and you’ve been the most successful at finding and recruiting these girls. It’s time to share the wealth…” ~Excerpt from an email from Rupert Giles to Robin Wood**

“He may prove to be a problem,” Miriam warned from her position across from his desk. She had shown up unannounced, and had insisted that she did not want to interrupt his work—part of which included answering emails from people like Wood and Davis Klein.

Both men were complaining, although about very different things.

“I don’t see what his problem is,” Giles muttered. “While he may have an active Hellmouth, we’ve been shuttling nearly all the new Slayers in the States to him, and there have been quite a few American Slayers found.”

Miriam raised an eyebrow. “Do you have to ask? He’s protecting his territory.”

“The girls are not his territory,” Giles shot back irritably. “If they are anyone’s, they’re the Council’s, but even that doesn’t mean much. The Council is more Slayer dominated than Watcher these days.”

“How is that working out?” she asked. “The teachers I sent have all been very positive about their experiences.”

“So far, it’s been quite the success here,” he admitted. “All of the younger ones seem to regard the situation as a big adventure at least. It’s some of the older Watchers who have caused problems. It’s proven nearly impossible to teach old dogs new tricks.”

“Old dogs can be taught new tricks,” was her quick response. “It just takes longer. That being said, I imagine that Robin Wood will pose a problem for you.”

“Something you’ve seen?” Giles inquired sharply.

Miriam gave a quick shake of her head. “No, simply my intuition, based on what information I have about the man and his past.”

“We need him,” Giles admitted grimly. “He’s been very successful, and I don’t want to deny that.”

“He needs to know that he has competition.” Miriam looked thoughtful. “Why not leave Faith and Wesley in Los Angeles? They will be needed there anyway, and you could send some of the American Slayers to them.”

Giles thought about the suggestion but finally shook his head. “Wesley is still employed by Wolfram and Hart, and I’m not sure that Faith has the patience or the inclination to have sole responsibility for a number of untrained Slayers.”

Miriam snorted. “First off, from what you’ve told me about the girl, she’ll do admirably, and she’ll have the Watcher’s aid.”

“He’s—”

Miriam stopped him with a raised eyebrow. “Trust me, Rupert. I think this will be an answer to several issues, but it can wait. You have time.”

“I really hate it when you do that,” he grumbled.

She smiled. “I know, which is why I try to do it as much as possible.”

Giles snorted. There were times when Miriam reminded him of Jenny, which was both comforting and disconcerting. “Very well, I’m leaving Faith in L.A. with Wesley, and eventually things will work out. Is there anything else you’ve seen that I should know about?”

“No, not yet.” Miriam shook her head. “So impatient, Rupert.”

He gave her a sour look but chose not to reply, knowing that would only encourage her. “Spike and Buffy will both be arriving today.”

“If I were you, I would let them do as they please. They deserve a break.”

“Something else you know?”

She raised an eyebrow. “You were here when I uttered the prophecy. Give them whatever time together you can.”

Giles sighed. “Very well. I’ll do what I can for them.”

~~~~~

Buffy walked through the entrance of the Council headquarters with a sigh of relief. Strangely enough, this place was beginning to feel like home, not least because she knew that Spike would be there. “Honey, I’m home.”

“Hey, Buffy,” Dawn said, coming out of Giles’ study. “Hey, Vi.”

“Is Spike back yet?” Buffy asked.

Dawn shook her head. “I haven’t seen him.”

“Giles in his study?”

“Yeah.” Dawn gave her sister a look. “Are you going to stick around for a while?”

Buffy sighed. “That’s up to Giles.”

“Why don’t you get out of here before Giles can think up something for you to do?” Dawn suggested in a low voice.

She frowned. “Huh?”

“Look, I’ve got a rental house set up for you and Spike in the Lake District. He should be here in about an hour, and since he doesn’t have to worry about the sun, you don’t have to worry about leaving during the day.”

Buffy stared at her younger sister in shock. “I thought you were mad at me for being gone so much.”

Dawn smirked. “Are you kidding? With you gone, I can train with the Slayers.”

Buffy opened her mouth to protest, but then stopped. Dawn was right; she tended to be a little overprotective. “Thanks. How long do you think we have?”

“I got you four days and five nights,” Dawn replied. “Giles doesn’t look at the books, so he won’t know where you guys are, and I don’t plan on telling him.”

Buffy seized her sister in a tight hug. “Thank you.”

Dawn patted her gently on the back. “Can’t breathe,” she choked out.

She released her sister abruptly. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Dawn smiled at her. “It’s good to see you happy again.”

Buffy pulled her close again. “Yeah. It’s good to be happy.”

Dawn pulled back. “Go on. You’ve got more packing to do.”

Buffy looked into her sister’s eyes. “You don’t know how much I appreciate this.”

Dawn shrugged. “Just remember this come Christmas.”

~~~~~

Spike headed up to his room as soon as he got to headquarters. He didn’t much want to talk to Giles at the moment, since he was certain that he’d only be given another job to do. All he wanted was a day or two with Buffy; he’d teach his classes without complaint, but he wanted some time with his Slayer.

He’d dropped his bag just inside the door to his room when her voice stopped him. “Were you going to say hello?”

A smile curved his lips. “Buffy.”

She was off the bed and in his arms before the word was completely out of his mouth. Spike buried his face in her hair and pressed his lips against the side of her neck. “When did you get back?” he asked, his voice muffled.

“About a half an hour ago, and you need to grab a few things.”

Spike pulled back. “No.”

“What?”

“No. I’m not goin’ anywhere. Your Watcher can take a long walk off a short pier; I’m not doin’ this again. Forget it.”

She snickered. “I’d like to see you say that to Giles’ face.”

Spike glared at her. “Buffy—”

“We’re going to the Lake District. Dawn set it up; Giles doesn’t know anything about it. We leave soon.”

Spike swallowed. “Yeah? Just the two of us?”

“Just the two of us.”

He kissed her fervently, his hands threading through her hair. She returned his embrace with equal passion, her hands grasping his shoulders hard enough to leave bruises—if he hadn’t been a vampire, anyway. “How long?”

“Dawn said four days and five nights. Vi and Audra can take your classes; I’ve already talked to them about it.” Her lips met his again, and Spike didn’t know if he’d be able to tear himself away long enough to leave.

Dawn’s voice broke in. “You know, if you’re going to catch the train, you’re going to have to get a move on. If you’re not gone by then, I can make no promises.”

Spike broke away from Buffy to give the littlest Summers a grateful smile. “Thanks, Bit. This is above and beyond.”

“You better believe it,” she replied. “Like I told Buffy, remember this come Christmas.”

He nodded. “You got it.”

“Giles is lecturing the Slayers on distinguishing between friends and enemies,” she said. “He’ll be busy for about an hour.”

Buffy hugged her sister tightly. “Thanks, Dawnie. I owe you big.”

Dawn grinned. “Think of that the first time I have a boyfriend.”

She was gone before Spike could voice a protest. “What does she mean by that?” he demanded of Buffy.

She shrugged. “Beats me. I’m not going to let it bother me, though. Not right now.”

Spike picked his bag up from the floor. “Let’s go.”

“You don’t need clean clothes?”

“Are we really gonna need them?”

She gave him an impish smile. “Good point.”

~~~~~

Dawn had been torn when she’d realized that Spike and Buffy were going to be back in Bath at the same time. On the one hand, she hadn’t seen him or her sister much at all of late; on the other, they hadn’t been able to spend time together either, and she had a feeling that might be more important.

Not that family _wasn’t_ important, but Dawn kept getting the impression that Buffy and Spike wouldn’t have much time together. There was nothing solid, but things that Miriam had mentioned, plus the fact that they were often needed in different locations, told her that maybe they needed this.

Dawn still remembered how broken up Buffy had been after Spike’s death, and how hurt she’d been because she’d wasted so much time.

Besides, Dawn was beginning to understand what it was to want to be with someone that badly, something she hadn’t felt since R.J., only not spell-induced.

She hadn’t said anything to Spike or Buffy yet, mostly because it was very new, and they hadn’t been around. Plus, she’d only known him for a week.

Dawn slipped into the classroom that Giles was using to lecture. She caught sight of Oliver up front; Giles had told her when he had arrived that he’d been badly injured during a training exercise at the Academy. He’d been sent home to recover, but no one had thought he’d be back.

Of course, that was back when they’d had no shortage of Watchers.

Now, of course, they needed teachers, researchers, archivists, and field Watchers, and there was plenty of room for a young man who got around with the help of crutches. “It’s rare to find a vampire that can be classified as an ally,” Giles was saying. “Most of you have met Spike, and Angel, of course, has a soul, but other than those two, there are perhaps two examples in the archives.”

Giles looked at Dawn standing in the back of the room. “Dawn, would you like to say a few words?”

He’d warned her that he was going to ask about her personal experiences in Sunnydale, but Dawn wasn’t sure what he wanted her to say. She made her way to the front of the room and stood there awkwardly. “Uh, I guess to start I’ll just ask if anybody has any questions.”

Rose’s hand shot up in the air, and Dawn hid a sigh. She loved Rose, but the girl could be really annoying. “Yeah, Rose?”

“If some vampires are good, how do you tell the difference?”

Dawn sat on the edge of the desk at the front of the room. “Well, if the vampire is trying to kill you or someone else, it’s safe to assume that it isn’t good. With Angel, he didn’t try to kill anybody until after he lost his soul, and Spike joined up with my sister to stop the world from ending. You don’t have to worry much about vampires and whether they’re good or evil.”

“Why?” one of the girls asked.

“Vampires need blood, and there has to be something else that’s more important to them to make them want to quit killing,” Dawn replied.

“What made Spike quit?” Rose asked innocently.

Dawn had no idea how to answer that; it was too complicated. Had it been the chip? Had it been love? Without one or the other, would he have changed? “Spike was different,” she finally said. “You’ll have to ask him next time he’s here.”

Oliver raised a hand, and Dawn nodded at him. “Then your strategy is live and let live?”

“Why not?” Dawn asked. “We have enough enemies actively trying to kill us; it’s not like we need to go out and find more.”

“Dawn has an excellent point,” Giles interrupted smoothly. “What are the pros and cons of building alliances with the demon world?”

Dawn listened to the discussion with the various points of view. She had expected a lot of the comments that came from the older Watchers who were present, the ones who were either from old, established families or who had been nearly through the Academy when the First had struck. Most of them seemed to stick by the standard “the only good demon was a dead demon,” but many of the Slayers liked the idea of not having to fight every monster that came across their paths.

“Why should we kill someone who doesn’t want to kill us?” Audra asked reasonably. “My Watcher used informants sometimes, and they weren’t always human. It’s a good way of staying alive.”

“And Spike died to save the world,” Vi added. “You can’t just say that all demons are evil.”

“But you can say that some kinds of demons are evil all the time,” Rory objected. He was one of the younger Watchers, and would need another couple of years on training to be ready for the field.

Oliver cleared his throat. “What kinds would that be?”

“Fyarl demons,” Rory said triumphantly. “They’re always bad.”

Giles chuckled. “Normally, I would agree with you, Rory, but I was a Fyarl demon for a short period of time. So, it is not precisely true that _all_ Fyarl demons are evil. Although I will grant you that it is more likely than not.”

Several voices clamored to hear the story, and Giles smiled and obliged them. Dawn had heard about it, but never from Giles himself, and it was amusing to get his version of events. As he finished, Giles added, “And you can see that assuming that all demons are bad is just as dangerous as assuming that all humans are good.”

“Not to mention the fact that you may at times be forced to take on strange allies,” Oliver said.

“A very good point,” Giles said. “Now, I think it’s time for dinner.” There was a stampede for the door, and the head Watcher turned to her. “Did Spike and Buffy get off alright?”

Dawn raised her eyebrows. “You weren’t supposed to know about that.” When he let out a sound that was a lot like a snort, she sighed. “I told them you didn’t know.”

“You didn’t know that I knew,” he pointed out. “Therefore, it wasn’t a lie.”

“You don’t mind?”

Giles shook his head. “They both deserve some time off.” He smiled. “Besides, I’m sure it pleased both of them to think they were fooling me.”

Dawn grinned. “Yeah.”

“Go get something to eat,” he ordered. “You’ve been working hard today.”

She left the room, and was thinking about her next assignment when a voice stopped her. “Dawn!”

Oliver limped towards her, his crutches thumping rhythmically on the floor. Dawn stopped to wait for him to catch up. “Hey, Oliver.”

“I wanted to talk to you,” he said.

She smiled, trying to control her nerves. “Sure. What about?”

He opened his mouth to reply, then stopped, his face flushing. “Nothing really. I just wanted to talk to you. I thought you’d be the person to go to, since I’m supposed to start teaching soon.”

Dawn could feel herself flushing. “Oh, well, I’ll do whatever I can. Did you have any questions?”

“Are there any girls I should look out for?” he asked.

Dawn grinned. “Just a few.”

If she wasn’t mistaken, Oliver was going to ask her out eventually, and when he did, Buffy and Spike would be in her debt. With any luck, they wouldn’t try to scare him off.


	18. Cleveland, Ohio

**“…It’s been weird here. Robin has been really moody, a lot worse than he was in Sunnydale. I think it has to do with Spike still being alive, but it’s not like we’re close, so he’s not going to tell me. Now that Giles has sent half our Slayers to Los Angeles, we’re pretty short-staffed, but it keeps us busy. I miss Brazil, but I’m glad I’m here…” ~Excerpt from an email sent from Kennedy Limon to Willow Rosenberg**

“Like this,” Kennedy said, adjusting Brittany’s grip on the crossbow. “Now try it.” The bolt flew straight and true this time, hitting the target dead-center, and Kennedy patted her on the back. “Good job. Keep practicing.”

She turned to watch as Rachel worked with two of the younger girls on hand-to-hand skills. Robin had said that he was busy and wouldn’t be back for a few hours, but Kennedy had no idea what was taking up so much of his time. As far as she knew, it couldn’t be Council business.

And there wasn’t much else but finding and training Slayers at this point in Kennedy’s opinion.

“Where do you think he went?” Rachel asked, joining her leaning up against the wall.

Kennedy shook her head. “I don’t know. I told Willow that he’s been weird.”

“Very weird.”

There was a pause, and Kennedy looked over at her. “Do you want to find out where he’s been going?”

“Are you talking about following him?”

“I’ve thought about it,” Kennedy admitted.

Rachel was quiet for a moment before nodding slowly. “I think we should. Something is going on. Ever since Faith left, he’s been different.”

“I think it has to do with Spike,” Kennedy confided. “He tried to have him killed in Sunnydale.” Not that she’d had a problem with that, of course, but she was beginning to think differently. Although she’d nearly staked him in Brazil that had mostly been a reflex action, and the knowledge that the dead who returned were generally evil.

But Spike _had_ died to save the world, and he hadn’t been evil when he came back, so maybe Buffy’s trust in him wasn’t completely misplaced. Besides, the fact was that both Buffy and Giles wanted him alive at this point, and Kennedy wasn’t going to challenge that assessment. Not until Spike proved himself a danger, anyway.

She realized that they couldn’t just go around killing people they didn’t like, and if Robin were planning something like that, he would have to be stopped. Kennedy remembered how things had gone downhill in Sunnydale when they’d stopped trusting Buffy and started turning on each other.

“When are we going?”

Kennedy looked at the girls. The youngest was twelve, the oldest fourteen. Giles had asked them to send the three oldest Slayers—other than Rachel—to Los Angeles to help Faith. “Tomorrow, while they’re in school,” she said. “We can’t risk leaving them alone, and he’s been leaving in the afternoon.”

Rachel nodded. “You’re on.”

Kennedy smiled, then called, “Okay, guys, that’s enough for today. Get cleaned up.”

She had to admit that she liked it here in Cleveland. Robin was nominally in charge, but she pretty much had a free rein. Rachel had said that he’d been fairly fixated on Faith, and when she’d gone, he had lost focus.

And it was up to her to find out why.

~~~~~

Rachel had known about Kennedy’s reputation, just from comments that Robin had made before she arrived. Kennedy was a troublemaker, a bitch, a brat—not that he’d used those exact words, of course, but she’d gotten the message loud and clear.

She hadn’t paid much attention to Robin’s commentary; he was a Watcher and also had been a school principal, so he was the enemy in a way. Rachel had been a troublemaker in her own right, so she’d been predisposed to like Kennedy _because_ of her reputation.

Kennedy and Robin probably would have fought like cats and dogs if his secret mission, whatever it was, hadn’t distracted him. Instead, it had been the two of them in charge, pretty much as a team, although Rachel had given Kennedy the lead. After all, she’d been the one who had trained with _the_ Slayer, and had fought in the final battle in Sunnydale.

It had been good, better than Rachel had expected.

Spying on Robin made it that much better.

Rachel slept late after patrol, and when she rose mid-morning, Kennedy informed her that Robin was still in bed. “Did the other girls get off okay?”

Kennedy nodded. “Yeah, although Jess is going to give us a few problems down the road.”

“Make her get her GED before she can drop out,” Rachel advised. “That’s what Faith and Robin told me, and it worked out.”

The other Slayer nodded, although she still looked troubled. “I guess.”

“You regretting not going to school?”

“No. This is what I was born to do.” Kennedy sighed. “I was raised by my Watcher; I rarely saw my parents. I always knew I’d be a Slayer.”

Rachel looked skeptical. “And you never wonder what it would have been like to be normal?”

“Normal?” Kennedy asked. “Normal would have been having a nanny until I was old enough to get home by myself, and then going off to some college that my parents approved of. At least this way I had my Watcher.”

Rachel hadn’t realized that Kennedy had been one of the few Slayers who had been raised by a Watcher. “Was your Watcher killed by the First?”

“Yeah.” Kennedy took a deep breath. “We should probably figure out a strategy for today. He can’t see us.”

“I hear you.” Rachel sat back in her chair. “I think we should be gone when he leaves, like at the grocery store. We’ll leave him a note, and wait for him to leave.”

Kennedy nodded slowly. “Yeah, that could work.” She glanced at the clock. “I’m going to catch a nap. Wake me up in a couple of hours?”

“Sure thing.” Rachel watched as she left the kitchen and took a sip of the Coke she’d snagged from the fridge. Robin frowned on soda in the morning—or any other time—but she figured she was old enough to drink it if she bought it. There was nothing like a jolt of caffeine and sugar in the morning; it just didn’t compare to coffee.

The phone rang, and Rachel picked up before it could wake Robin. “Hello?”

“Rach. Told you I would call.”

“Faith!” she exclaimed. “How have you been?”

“Good. I’m staying pretty busy in L.A. How’s Ken doing?”

“She’s nice.”

“Yeah? You’re not just saying that, are you?”

“When did I ever pull my punches?” Rachel asked.

“Point. You guys are doing okay, then?”

“Pretty good.” Rachel hesitated, not sure if she should say anything about Robin or not.

“What’s up, kiddo?” Faith asked, her voice kind.

Rachel sighed. “Hang on.” She took the cordless phone out on the back porch, knowing that Robin’s room was at the front of the house, and he wouldn’t hear her as long as she kept her voice down. “Robin has been weird. He’s been sneaking around, not showing up at training, or spending any time with the girls. It’s pretty much me and Ken in charge.”

“You’re right, that’s weird.” Faith was silent for a moment. “What are you guys doing about it?”

“We’re going to find out where he’s going. What else?”

“Call Giles when you figure it out, or have Kennedy do it,” Faith ordered. “We’ve got our hands full here, or I’d come out myself.”

Rachel wished that Faith was still around; she liked Kennedy, but Faith had been like a big sister. “Yeah, okay. How are things?”

“Five by five. It’s been different, but good.”

“I’m glad.”

“Hang in there, Rach. If you need me, and I can get there, I’ll come.”

It was enough for the moment. “Thanks.”

“No big.” There was another pause, then she said, “I gotta go. We’ve got a problem to take care of.”

Rachel hung up the phone, and took a deep breath. No matter what Faith had said about calling Giles, she knew that they were pretty much on their own in this. There weren’t enough Watchers to send a new one; Rachel knew that much for certain.

~~~~~

Kennedy peered over the hood of Faith’s truck as Robin climbed into his car. “Have you ever followed anybody before?”

“On foot,” Rachel admitted. “Not in a car.” She frowned. “The other girls are going to be home any minute now.”

“I already told them that we might be late,” Kennedy replied. “They’re going to do their homework and get busy training, or they’re going to hear it from me.”

She had no idea if that would work or not, but there wasn’t much else she could do. “Okay. I think he’s far enough away.”

They’d left the truck idling around the block, far enough away so that he wouldn’t notice, but close enough to keep watch. Kennedy made sure to keep plenty of distance between them, knowing that they couldn’t afford a slip-up at this stage in the game.

For the next two hours, Kennedy followed Robin to various innocuous locations—a pharmacy, a hardware store, an office building. She had no idea what he wanted with the latter, but there was nothing sinister about his visit.

As the sun began to go down, however, his car headed towards an area of town that she’d been warned away from. “Crap,” she muttered.

“Where is he going?” Rachel hissed. “He has no business in this area of town, unless it’s with a Slayer. Maybe a training run, but—” She stopped as he parked. “Turn. Now!”

Kennedy followed her command, sending the big truck down an alley barely wide enough to accommodate it. The vehicle was too recognizable to allow him to catch a glimpse of it, and it was the only option around.

“Weapons,” Kennedy said tersely.

The two of them squeezed out of the truck, going to the back for the weapons cache that Faith had left behind. Kennedy made sure she had several stakes, and she grabbed the biggest ax in the converted tool chest. Rachel followed her example, although she opted for a spiked bat.

Although Robin had entered the seedy-looking bar from the front, Kennedy knew that wasn’t an option. A couple of girls their age would draw a lot of attention in a place like that, and so they headed around back and found an unwatched door.

Slipping inside, Kennedy headed down a dark hallway towards the riotous sounds in the front of the bar. She moved cautiously, not wanting to be seen. Robin was talking to a demon of a sort Kennedy had never seen before.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Rachel whispered.

She shook her head. There was no way to get close enough to hear what was being said, but she noticed a lizard-like demon sitting next to them. Although he appeared absorbed in his drink at first glance, a second look told her that he was listening in. His beady, red eyes continually darted back and forth, and his hunched over posture did nothing to hide his nerves.

“Do you see the demon sitting next to them?”

Rachel frowned, then nodded. “Yeah. We gonna grab him?”

“Seems like the thing to do.”

They didn’t have to wait for long. Robin rose and went out the front door, and the demon he’d been talking to wasn’t far behind. The lizard demon lingered long enough to finish his drink, but when he went to leave, he headed towards the back, not the front.

“Quick!” Kennedy said, pushing Rachel towards the back door. The other girl recognized her strategy immediately, and they hurried outside, stationing themselves by the door.

They had just gotten into place when the demon exited the building, and Kennedy moved quickly, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and slamming him up against the brick. “Hi,” she said, grinning. “I need some information.”

“Oh, no,” he groaned. “Look, you Slayers don’t want anything to do with me. I’m harmless!”

“Which is why we aren’t going to harm you,” Rachel said amenably from just off to the right. “As long as you tell us what we want to know.”

“What do you want to know?” he asked suspiciously.

Kennedy smiled tightly. “You were eavesdropping in there. I want to know what you overheard.”

He shook his head emphatically. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” he protested. “I would never—urk.”

Kennedy had cut off his protest with a well-placed forearm against his throat. “Let me emphasize the fact that your life depends on your ability to be honest with us. What were they talking about?”

He gurgled, and she took her arm away to allow him to talk. “Your friend was trying to put a hit out on a vampire.”

Kennedy’s heart sank. “What vampire?”

“Somebody named Spike,” the demon replied. “But no one took him up on it tonight. I mean, this Spike is apparently surrounded by Slayers! No one’s going to take that offer unless they want to take out a bunch of Slayers at the same time.”

Rachel let out a breath. “Kennedy—”

“Not now,” she barked and turned her attention back to the demon. “What else?”

“This isn’t the first time he’s tried,” the demon admitted. “He’s been in other joints, but—everybody knows that there’s a fight coming up. Something like that’s on the way, and you only choose sides if you’re suicidal.”

Kennedy’s eyes narrowed. “I guess you just got yourself a death wish,” she said. “You’re on our side now.”

“What?” the demon choked out. “I didn’t—”

“Information only,” Kennedy followed up quickly. “And we’ll pay you. No one has to know who’s giving it to us.”

The demon’s eyes narrowed. “You’ll keep it quiet.”

“Sure, unless you double-cross us.”

He finally nodded. “I could use the cash.”

“Good.” Kennedy released him. “What’s your name?”

“It’s Hubert,” the demon replied. “Which is why I’m not on speaking terms with my parents.”

Kennedy snorted, and she heard Rachel chuckle. Pulling out her wallet, she pulled out a twenty, the only cash she had. “Thanks.”

Hubert snatched it from her quickly. “Yeah, always happy to help.”

Their eyes met briefly, and Kennedy felt compelled to add, “Sorry about getting rough. It’s just—”

“It’s war,” Hubert said. He grinned, revealing sharp, pointy teeth. “Watch your back, Slayer.”

He had disappeared into the darkness a moment later, and Kennedy turned to Rachel. “Now what?”

“Do you think we can find him?” Rachel asked. “I mean, if he’s trying to put a hit out on Spike, maybe we should stop him.”

Kennedy was quiet for a moment, then shook her head. “I don’t think this is something we can handle by ourselves. We should probably call Giles, but not from the house.”

As they walked towards the truck, Rachel said, “Okay, I get that Spike killed his mom, and that’s bad, but—”

Kennedy knew what her fellow Slayer was trying to say, but she didn’t have any answers. “I don’t know. I—” She stopped, her eyes widening in shock just before she saw the tall figure looming out of the darkness at the back of the truck.

She had no time to move out of the way, feeling her head slam back against the brick. The world grayed out, and she fought for consciousness. She heard Rachel cry out, and Kennedy acted on instinct alone, striking out with the weapon she held in her hand.

When her vision cleared, Kennedy could see Rachel leaning against the truck, her hand around the crossbow bolt sticking out of her shoulder. Robin lay on the ground, bleeding from a head wound.

“Oh, God.” Kennedy stumbled forward, putting a shaking hand to his neck, feeling for a pulse.

It wasn’t there. Robin Wood was dead, and she had killed him.


	19. Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

**“…You can see why it’s so bad, Xander. We just don’t have the manpower to spare right now, but Kennedy isn’t ready to be on her own with a bunch of Slayers yet, not with an active Hellmouth. Plus, it sounds like she’s pretty freaked out about the whole thing. With Robin dead, though, it’s hard to know what to think. We all thought that he was a friend…” ~Excerpt from an email from Willow Rosenberg to Xander Harris**

“But why on earth would he do something that stupid?” Zoë exclaimed.

Willow shook her head. “I know Spike killed his mother, but—”

“I’m not referring to that.” At Willow’s surprised look, she clarified, “I’m not condoning his behavior in the least, but if I knew that the vampire who had killed my mother was still running about, I might be tempted to do the same.”

“I probably would, too,” Willow admitted.

“No, I’m talking about trying to kill his Slayers,” Zoë went on. “It would have been better for him—although probably not for Spike or for us—for him to simply disappear.”

That was what Zoë was having such a difficult time understanding. It was one thing to want revenge; it was something different to attempt to kill those who had uncovered your plans. “How is Kennedy doing?” she asked, when Willow didn’t reply immediately.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’ve called a couple of times, and she said she was fine. Faith will have a better idea.”

“Oh?” Zoë asked.

“Giles asked her to go back to Cleveland while he makes arrangements for a Watcher and one of the Council members to meet them. The problem is that the older Watchers are all unsuitable for field work, and we need an older Watcher there.”

“What about one of the coven members?” Zoë asked. She’d met a number of the witches, and there had been quite a few who were formidable.

Willow sighed. “That’s pretty much what we’re relying on. I don’t know who Giles is going to get, though. None of them are really warriors.”

“Does that really matter?”

“Right now, no, as long as they can use combative magic.” Willow rubbed her forehead tiredly. “I don’t know what to think, to be honest. I feel as though I’m too far away to do any good.”

Zoë patted her on the shoulder. “You are too far away. I realize that doesn’t make you feel any better, but there’s nothing to be done about it.”

“I know.” Willow sighed and rose to her feet, forcing a smile on her face. “I’m sorry. I should go get something to eat. I know I’m not much fun to be around right now.”

Zoë watched her go, feeling sympathetic. She knew how difficult it was to be far away from friends and family when they were hurting. The truth was that they were all struggling with the same thing, and there was no way to make things easier.

Arnold entered the room slowly. “Wasn’t Willow just in here?”

“She was. Were you looking for her?”

He shook his head. “No, not really. It’s just that I’d heard about Robin, and…” Arnold trailed off, glancing back towards where he’d come from. “I don’t understand how he could attempt to kill his Slayers.”

“Nor do I.” Zoë understood his bafflement; unlike Willow, who seemed most perturbed at the thought that Wood had gone after Spike, Zoë suspected that most Watchers would be more appalled at his attempts to cover it up.

She had heard stories of Watchers who had killed their Slayers, either because they had gone rogue and were a danger to others, or as a result of their own misguided goals. For most Watchers, however, the realization that someday their Slayer would die was something that engendered a deep fear.

There were, after all, more than a few Watchers who had committed suicide after the deaths of their Slayers; one of her ancestors on the Council had done so, in fact.

Therefore, a man who would be willing to kill not one, but two, Slayers, while trying to cover his own misdeeds—well, good riddance to bad rubbish was what Zoë was thinking, even though she wouldn’t say it out loud.

“I wasn’t supposed to get a potential, you know,” Arnold said out of the blue. “My older brother was slated for that honor.”

Zoë had heard only snippets of the story; they lived in a small, insular world, but there was some gossip that was reserved for the ears of only a few in the inner circle. “Oh?”

“He was caught sleeping with one of the girls—not his, and she was of age, but it was still quite the scandal.” Arnold smiled mirthlessly. “I had done well in my studies, and there were a number who owed my father favors, but I was still a poor second choice.”

“I can’t say I agree with that assessment,” Zoë replied evenly. “What happened to your brother?”

“My father disowned him, and I haven’t spoken to him since.” Arnold shrugged. “He may as well have disappeared off the face of the planet for all I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. He wasn’t a very nice person.”

There was a moment of silence as Zoë studied his face. Arnold was not conventionally handsome by any stretch of the imagination, but he was a steady bloke, and his eyes reflected his calm manner. Zoë thought that might be why he was such a good teacher; the girls trusted him almost immediately.

“Would you like to have dinner with me sometime?”

Arnold turned to her, blinking. “Excuse me?”

Feeling both nervous and excited, she repeated, “Would you like to have dinner with me? We’re due a night off sometime soon, and I’d like the company.”

“I, uh…” Arnold squared his shoulders. “Yes. I should like that very much.”

Zoë smiled, remembering something that her father had once told her. “Life is short, my girl. Seize what joy you can when it presents itself to you.” She was going to do everything in her power to do just that.

~~~~~

Willow had received the news from Giles; it hadn’t been good. Robin Wood was dead, Kennedy had a concussion, and Rachel had been shot with a crossbow. Both the girls would be okay eventually, which was a small miracle.

She supposed that she should be grateful for whatever small miracles they could get.

Putting her head down on her desk, Willow took a deep breath, wishing that there was something she could do. The phone rang, and she picked it up wearily. “Yeah?”

“Will?”

“Buffy? I thought you were supposed to be on vacation.” Willow sat up straight.

Buffy sighed. “We still are, technically. Dawn got in touch with us a little bit ago to fill us in.”

She felt for her friend. “How many days do you have left?”

“Just two. We’ve had a good time, but it seems like it’s time to go back.”

“Don’t.” Willow’s voice was strong. “What can you do? Faith is going to Cleveland, Robin is dead. I’ve already been told that I’m too far away to do any good; the same is true for you.”

“Will—”

“It’s true, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it’s true.”

“Then why would you leave early?”

“That’s what Spike said,” Buffy admitted. “It’s just—I feel like there ought to be something I can do.”

“I know. I feel the same way.”

Buffy was quiet for a moment, then said, “How are things in Brazil?”

“Good.” Willow was relieved to be able to tell the truth, knowing that it would help put Buffy at ease. “The girls are all doing really well, the Watchers are getting along, there really isn’t much else to report.”

“No drama sounds good to me,” Buffy said.

“How’s the trip been?”

“Relaxing.” Willow could hear the smile in her friend’s voice, and it was heartening. “We haven’t done much.” There was a sound in the background, and Buffy added, “Spike said to tell you that wasn’t quite true.”

“I think I can guess what you guys have been doing,” Willow said dryly. “And unless Spike has lost his touch, you’ve probably had quite the workout.”

She laughed. “He hasn’t.” Buffy paused. “Are you really okay, Will? I know that you’re kind of out there by yourself—”

“I’m not,” Willow was quick to assure her. “Really. Zoë and I are getting pretty close, and Arnold has been a huge help.”

“Okay, well, if you need anything, just let us know. We’ll figure it out.”

Willow appreciated the offer, but both Zoë and Buffy were right. She was removed from the others, and although she was far from her friends, she was close to others. “I will. Have fun, Buffy.”

She hung up the phone and squashed the self-pity that welled up. It was in moments like this when she missed Tara the most. The knock on the study door had her straightening her shoulders. “Come in!”

Teresa poked her head in. “Willow, you have a guest.”

Willow frowned. She hadn’t been expecting anyone. “I’ll be right there.”

Rising, she followed Teresa out to the front entrance—and stopped cold. “Oz?”

He stood there, hands shoved in his pockets, his eyes steady. “Hi, Willow.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I know it’s not Istanbul, but—”

She didn’t let him finish, instead throwing her arms around him. It was just so good to see a familiar face, someone from Sunnydale. “It’s good to see you.”

“So it seems.” His arms had come around her, holding on tightly. “I’ve missed you.”

“Me, too.” Willow pulled back. “How did you find me?”

He shrugged. “When I heard about Sunnydale, I started looking. I needed to be sure you were okay. I found Giles, and he told me where you were.”

“And you came.”

“And I came.” His eyes searched her face. “Is that okay?”

“More than.”

~~~~~

Arnold had lucked out with Rhoda, and he knew it. She had been twelve; he had been twenty-nine, and very aware that he had been second choice. Rhoda, however, hadn’t looked at him that way. She’d found the training fun, and she’d come to view him as an uncle. She had remained at home, unlike many potential Slayers, and her parents had viewed him as a member of the family.

Then the Bringers had come, and he and Rhoda had fled together in order to protect the rest of her family. Rather than making their way towards Sunnydale and the others, Arnold had decided to go to ground. It had seemed safer to present more than one target, although he knew that there was a certain truth to the idea that there was safety in numbers.

It had been his call, however, and Rhoda had agreed with him. In the months that they had been running, they had grown even closer.

He wasn’t supposed to be here; Arnold wasn’t the type to be sent to take care of demonic assassins, nor was he the sort to be asked out to dinner by an attractive woman. Strange, the paths that life could take.

“I hear you’ve got a hot date,” Rhoda said from the doorway.

Arnold frowned. “Where did you hear that?”

“Word travels fast around here.” She grinned at him. “It’s about time.”

“Oh?”

“Come on, Emrys. You haven’t gone out on a date once since I’ve known you.”

“The life of a Watcher—”

“Oh, don’t give me that ‘life of a Watcher’ crap,” she interrupted rudely, but with a smile that indicated she wasn’t entirely serious.

Arnold glared at her, knowing that his look was less than effective. “There wasn’t enough time to devote to a relationship.”

“And the right woman hadn’t come along yet,” Rhoda said knowingly. “It’s not that hard to admit.”

Arnold coughed, not wanting to admit that he’d never really had a girlfriend, not when he had men like Davis Klein in his year at the Academy. “Yes, well, I hadn’t quite looked at it that way before.”

“So, what are you going to wear?”

“Does it matter?” Arnold asked in surprise. “We share quarters, Rhoda. It’s not as though I can hope to impress her if I haven’t already.”

Her eye roll was eloquent. “Please. It’s the gesture, Emrys. You dress up, she’ll notice and appreciate it. Trust me, Zoë hasn’t dated that much either.”

“You can’t know that,” Arnold began, but stopped when she snorted. “Never mind. What would you suggest?”

~~~~~

Willow couldn’t believe how easy it had been to fall into their old rhythm. The Slayers were with Zoë, and so she had plenty of time to catch up with Oz. Leaning against him, while he leaned against her headboard, it felt as though no time at all had passed.

“How long can you stay?”

“That would depend on you.”

Willow sat up to look at him. “What are you talking about?”

“I can stay as long as you want me here,” Oz replied.

She took a deep breath. “The longer, the better, as far as I’m concerned. We could use your help.”

“Is that the only reason you want me to stay?” he asked quietly. When she hesitated, he added, “I know a lot has happened, and I’m not saying that this is going anywhere now, but—”

She put a hand to his lips to stop him. “Tara died, and I wasted a lot of time. I don’t want to do that again.”

“I never stopped loving you,” he confessed.

Willow pressed her forehead against his. “I know. I’ve always loved you.”

They sat quietly for a few minutes, and Willow relished the feeling of strong arms around her once again. “Why did you come?”

“I had to be sure you were okay,” Oz said simply. “When Giles told me that Tara—I had to see you for myself.”

“I’m okay,” Willow assured him. “It was—it’s been awhile, you know?”

“I know.”

“I still miss her, but I missed you, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She turned in his arms, burrowing her head in his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re staying.”

His arms tightened around her. “So am I.”


	20. Pretoria, South Africa

**“…It’s been quiet here recently. Our alliance with the Oribi is working, and they’ve helped us find another Slayer. I head out tomorrow to make contact. They’ve promised that they can get me in and out safely with the new Slayer. Since she’s in the middle of the Sudan, that’s a good thing…” ~Excerpt from an email from Xander Harris to Buffy Summers**

Corey watched as Xander zipped up his overnight bag, the sound harsh in the silence of the room. “Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked. “I know I get along better with the Oribi.”

“It has to be me, Corey. If we run into trouble, I’m probably going to be safer.”

She knew what he was talking about. If Xander were caught, he might be beaten, or possibly tortured, but if she were caught—well, things could be much worse. Also, as an American, his government might be able to bring more pressure to bear if he was taken.

Not that the South African government wouldn’t make the attempt, but everyone knew that Americans carried big sticks.

“But you’ll be careful?”

“You know I will be.” He turned then and pulled her into a hug, his hands making soothing circles on her back. “I can’t let you go. I can’t lose another person I love.”

Corey understood who he was referring to, and she knew that there wasn’t anything she could say to reassure him. Even a promise that nothing would happen to her might be a lie, given the dangerous nature of their occupations.

So, she focused on what she could address. “You love me, huh?”

“How could I not?” Xander pressed his lips to her forehead. “I have to go. I have a feeling that Kei wouldn’t be happy if I showed up late.”

“Go. Be careful.” Corey watched as he left with his bag slung over his shoulder. She knew what kind of a situation he was walking into. The Sudan was not a safe area, particularly the area where the new Slayer apparently was.

She whispered a prayer, then turned to leave. Corey had a job to do, and staying busy was the best antidote for worry.

~~~~~

Xander tossed his bag in the cargo area of the plane and turned to Kei, the Oribi they’d had the most contact with since making the alliance. “Thanks for doing this.”

“It is necessary, yes?” Kei asked.

Xander nodded. “Yeah, it’s necessary. We need to get the girl out before something bad happens to her—assuming that it hasn’t already.”

Kei gave a shake of his head. “Come, then. You know Ebu?”

He peered into the cockpit to see the co-pilot, and recognized one of the three who had first come to meet him. “Hi.”

“We should be going,” Ebu said. “We have little time if we want to land and be gone while it is still dark.”

The flight took several hours, with a stop to refuel. The small engine craft didn’t go quite as fast as a commercial jet would have, but they weren’t required to file a flight plan—at least, that’s what Kei and Ebu had said. Xander wasn’t sure they didn’t mean that it was a lot easier to fly under the radar.

When they landed outside the village in southern Sudan where Xander had been told the new Slayer could be found, he grabbed his weapons, glancing at Ebu and Kei. “You guys staying or going?”

“We’re not ‘guys,’” Ebu said stiffly.

Xander couldn’t be certain, but he thought that he heard Kei chuckle. “I will come.”

Apparently that was enough for Ebu as well, because he followed them out of the plane and towards the village. The full moon and stars provided just enough light to see by, and Xander was relieved when he didn’t see any soldiers.

The three of them moved silently through the village, and Xander pulled out the crystal that the coven had sent to help locate the Slayers. He hadn’t needed it to find Emily, but they’d used it for every girl after her.

It pulsed brightly as he headed into the small grouping of houses—if you could call them that. Back in the States, Xander wasn’t even sure that they would be termed “huts.” The darkness had hidden much of the destruction that was evident as they found themselves in the midst of it all.

Xander didn’t bother asking what had happened; he knew that raiders and guerillas often entered the southern villages, leaving destruction in their wake, and taking women and children with them as slaves. There were no sounds, and Xander felt the eerie sense of being watched—and emptiness, all at the same time.

“Is there anyone here?” he whispered to the Oribi.

Kei shook his head, his expression grim. “No.”

As they passed one house, the crystal dimmed slightly and Xander paused, turning back towards the house. “Hello?” he called softly. “We aren’t going to hurt you.”

There was no response, and Xander looked at his companions. “Do either of you speak the language?”

Ebu shook his head. “It would be impossible to say which language she speaks. There are many dialects popular in this area.”

“Any suggestions?”

Ebu shrugged. “Arabic? English?”

“Do you know Arabic?”

Kei spoke in what he could only assume was Arabic, and there was still no response. “Perhaps she is not here?”

Xander held up the crystal, which was glowing brightly. “No, she’s here.” He handed the crystal to Kei. “Stay put. I’ll see if I can find her.”

Entering the hut slowly, he called out again. “Hello? I’m not going to harm you.” He paused, and heard the faint sounds of breathing. “I know you’re here.”

Maybe that was the wrong thing to say, because Xander suddenly found himself flat on his back, a young girl straddling his chest. She raised her hand, but he rolled over, trapping her beneath him. Even though she had Slayer strength, she wasn’t yet full grown, and so he had the advantage as far as size and weight were concerned.

“Easy,” he hissed. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

The girl stared at him. “American?”

“Yes, I’m an American,” he replied, hoping that would reassure her. “I want to take you somewhere safe.”

Her skin was so dark that all he could see was the whites of her eyes; she looked surprised, then nodded. “I go.”

When he released her, she scrambled to her feet, and Xander led the way out of the hut. “They’re friends,” he assured her when she caught sight of Ebu and Kei.

Ebu’s head went up. “Trouble.”

The roar of jeep engines was clear through the clear night air. “Shit,” Xander said succinctly. “Get her out of here.”

“You come, too,” Kei replied.

Xander shook his head. “No. You’ll move faster without me, and they’ll have the means of taking the plane down. I’ll distract them.”

Ebu didn’t argue, instead taking the girl’s hand and ushering her towards the plane. Kei stared at Xander, and said simply, “We will come back for you.”

He nodded, swallowing his fear, and headed in the opposite direction of the plane, sending up a silent prayer to anyone or anything that might be listening.

~~~~~

Miles smiled fondly at the girls, dark heads bent over their notebooks, laboriously writing down their impressions of the story they’d just read. Corey slipped into the room, pulling him aside. “Have you heard anything from Xander?”

He shook his head. “No. It’s still early yet, Corey.”

“No, it’s not. He was supposed to call four hours ago. They should have been in and out by now.”

Miles was sympathetic, knowing how she felt about Xander. “Something may have come up, dear. I’m afraid that you’ll just have to be patient.”

“I don’t like being patient,” Corey replied, a wry note in her voice. “But you’re right, I’m afraid. I just wish there were some way we could know for certain that he was alright.”

“I’m sorry,” he replied, knowing that there was no other way.

“Corey! Miles!” Whit came rushing into the room. “A plane is landing!”

Corey frowned. “I didn’t think they were landing here.”

Whit shook his head. “I know. That’s why I came to get you. I figured that maybe something went wrong.”

The two of them followed the boy outside, Miles hobbling along at some distance behind with his cane. He could just make out the plane in the distance; the pilot had made what could only be described as an incredible landing in the field just beyond the school. Although there was an open space wide enough for the plane, it shouldn’t have been long enough for a landing.

Miles saw one of the Oribi exit the plane from the near side, opening the passenger side and taking the still form of a man from the plane.

“Emily!” Miles roared, turning back towards the school. The Slayers had all congregated by the door and were beginning to head towards the plane. “Girls, stay where you are.”

They froze in unquestioning obedience. “Miles?” Emily called. “What is it?”

“I need you all to listen closely,” he said, repeating his words in Afrikaans for good measure. “Zindy, set some water to boil. Leotta, Nàtali, gather the first aid things.”

“Which ones?” Leotta asked.

“All that you can find,” Miles replied, glancing back towards the plane and the figure slumped between the two demons.

~~~~~

Corey had never seen Xander without his eye patch, which was saying something, considering that they had shared quarters for months now. The patch was gone now, though, revealing the empty socket it had hidden. His good eye was nearly swollen shut, there was a cut on his forehead in the middle of a purplish bruise, and his clothes were torn and bloody.

“Xander,” she whispered, hurrying to the Oribi. “What happened?”

“There were guerillas,” Kei replied succinctly.

Corey spotted the girl trailing behind them, and glanced between her and Xander. She was torn; the new Slayer would need her help, but her heart was with Xander. “Get him inside,” she ordered the Oribi.

Turning towards the girl, she touched her chest. “I’m Corey. What is your name?”

“Ilori,” the girl replied, touching her own chest. She cast anxious eyes towards Xander. “He live?”

“I believe so,” Corey replied. “Leotta, Zindy, this is Ilori.” She addressed the girls as they came to hang around the door, staring after Xander. “I want you to show her around and find her something to eat and to wear.” She repeated her instructions in Afrikaans.

Zindy approached shyly, holding out her hand to Ilori. “Come.”

The girl hesitated, but then took the proffered hand and followed. Corey breathed a sigh of relief. The other girls would take care of Ilori for the time being, and she could focus on Xander.

Kei and Ebu had laid Xander down on his bed. Miles was giving directions. Emily had a basin of steaming water, and was placing it on the stand by the bed. “What happened, Kei?”

“Guerillas,” Kei replied. “They came on us just when we had found the girl. Xander told us to leave him, that he would provide a distraction.”

“And you did?” Corey demanded.

“He was correct,” Ebu replied. “If he had not distracted them, we would not have brought the girl out safely.”

“What did they do to him?” Corey moved to his side, taking the wash rag from Emily’s hand and beginning to clean the blood off of Xander’s face.

Kei made a sound. “They tortured him, wanting to know what group he was with. He did not tell them.”

Corey heard the note of admiration in his voice. “Thank you for bringing him back.”

“We would not leave him behind,” Ebu said. “But now—now, I think, we can do no more good.”

“Miles, would you see them out?” Corey asked.

Miles nodded. “Of course.”

“Corey?” Whit called from the doorway. “I have medical training.”

“Of course you do,” she replied. “Emily, I need you to see to the other girls. Ilori will need to be settled in, and I’m needed here.”

Emily hesitated but finally nodded. Once she was gone, Corey closed the door behind her and turned to Whit. “We need to get him out of those clothes.”

Between the two of them, they got Xander undressed, and Corey dropped the tattered remains of his clothes by the door. The bruising evident on his arms and torso bore testimony to the fact that his face had not been the only target.

“Do you think that there’s internal bleeding?” Whit asked quietly.

She winced at the thought. “I don’t know.” Corey checked his pulse, finding it slow but steady under her fingers. “I don’t think so. There would be more signs of it, I think.”

She finished cleaning Xander’s face, then held him up so that Whit could wrap his ribs. Xander grunted as Whit pulled the bandages tight.

Corey was quick to reassure him. “It’s okay, Xander. You’re home safe now.”

“Corey?” he muttered.

“And Whit,” she said. “We’re just getting you cleaned up and bandaged, then I’ll get you some pain medication and you can sleep.”

“The Slayer?” he asked.

“She’s here and safe. Emily’s taking care of her.”

“Whit?”

“I’m right here, Xander,” the younger man said.

“You’re in charge of the training. Don’t think I’ll manage it for the next few days.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Whit promised.

Corey nodded at him, and he rose, taking her hint. “I’m going to make sure Emily’s doing okay. Feel better, Xander.”

“How bad do I look?” Xander croaked as soon as the door closed.

“How bad do you feel?” she countered.

He chuckled, then groaned. “Probably worse. I can’t see very well.”

“Your good eye is pretty much swollen shut. I’ll grab an ice pack when I get the pain killers.”

Xander groped for her hand. “Don’t leave yet.”

“I’ll stay as long as you want me to,” she promised. Her hand tightened around his. “I thought you said you were going to be careful. Kei tells me that you played the hero.”

“I had no choice,” Xander replied. “It was the only way.”

Corey stroked his hair with her free hand. “I know. You did well, love.”

“Then you’ll stay?”

“As long as you want.”

And she stayed until he fell asleep.


	21. An Undisclosed Location in the Lake District, England

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the purposes of this story, Dunham is a completely made-up town and bears no resemblance to any actual place you might know.

**“…Giles wanted Spike to go back, but we’re so close to where the new Slayer is that I convinced him to let us go together. I thought we’d get back faster that way, too. I’ll be sure to call when we’ve got her. Tell Vi and Audra that we owe them dinner for taking Spike’s classes for so long…” ~Excerpt from an email from Buffy Summers to Dawn Summers**

“Ready to go?”

“Just a sec.” Buffy hit the send button and shut down the laptop. She hadn’t wanted to take the computer with them, but it was the best way to stay in touch and yet be able to control the amount of contact. Phone calls had a tendency to come at the worst possible moment.

Spike had already picked up her bag, and she followed him out of their room. “Are you sure about the laundry thing? Because we could probably stop and get an extra change of clothes for you.”

“You saying that I smell?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

She rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I’m saying, and you know it. I just thought—”

“Luv, you’ll remember that I didn’t wear much the last few days. My clothing will last a bit longer.” He gave her a sidelong glance. “You just want a chance to dress me,” he accused, the light dawning.

She shrugged. “I can’t say that it didn’t occur to me.”

Spike closed the trunk and opened Buffy’s door for her. “What is it with you birds and buyin’ clothes?”

“It’s encoded in our genes.” She buckled up and turned in her seat so that she would be facing him. “I’m hoping that you know the city, because all I have is an address.”

“Dunham isn’t that big,” he replied. “If we have to, we’ll stop and ask for directions.”

“Did I just hear that right?” Buffy asked. “You, a man, would stop and ask for directions?”

He glared at her. “I want to get back to Bath just like you do. I’ve got Slayers to see to.”

“Spending time with your girlfriend should be more important.”

“It should be,” he agreed. “But until evil takes a rest, it’s gonna have to run a very close second.”

She couldn’t fault him for his reasoning, even if some part of her would have preferred the Spike who called himself her willing slave. Those days were long gone, though, and good riddance, really. “You really like that job, huh?”

“They’re my responsibility,” he said quietly. “An’ when I send them out, I want to make bloody sure they’re comin’ back alive.”

Buffy reached over to grasp his hand. “It’s your job to keep them alive now.”

“Killed a couple. I should know how to do the reverse.”

It wasn’t often that Spike talked about his past—and the attendant guilt—these days. For the most part, it seemed as though it didn’t bother him, although Buffy knew that wasn’t precisely true.

“I think that dying to save the world more than makes up for anything you did in the past.”

“It’s not like that, though, is it?” When Spike looked at her, his blue eyes were deathly serious. “That’s what you told me when you thought you’d killed that girl.”

It wasn’t the first time Buffy’s words had come back to bite her, but she still didn’t appreciate it. “Fine. But in the grand scheme of things, you’ve done a lot of good, Spike.”

“I don’t think about it all the time,” Spike said softly. “The guilt—doesn’t do anybody any good, does it? I could wallow like Angel, or I could do somethin’ useful.”

“I think you made the right choice.”

There were a lot of things that they had been able to say to one another recently—probably because they hadn’t been able to touch, which seemed to shut down their ability to think. Buffy knew that’s what it did to her.

Still, with everything that had been said, there were a few things that she didn’t think she’d made clear.

“When you died, I hated the fact that you were gone,” she began. “But I was really proud of you, too.”

Buffy could see his free hand tighten on the steering wheel, and his jaw tightened. At first, she couldn’t figure out what would have upset him, and then she realized that he was trying to control his emotions for another reason.

“Yeah?” he finally managed.

“Yeah.”

~~~~~

How they had made it almost six days without one argument, Spike had no idea. Perhaps it had to do with the lack of time they’d spent together. He knew how precious each moment with Buffy was, and there was no way he was going to start a fight—unless he knew that it was going to end with makeup sex. He had a feeling that Buffy felt the same way.

He’d been amused when she’d put her foot down with Giles. Dunham wasn’t very far from where they were vacationing, and there was no real hurry for Spike to get back since Vi and Audra were doing such a good job. Didn’t it make more sense for her to have backup picking up the new Slayer?

Giles had agreed with her, for whatever reason, and now they were driving to Scotland in a rental car, because the train wasn’t going to leave soon enough for the head Watcher.

Spike didn’t know much about Dunham, other than the fact that it was smaller town and economically disadvantaged. The population was declining because most of the younger ones were off finding jobs elsewhere, and with one thing leading to another, the jobs were leaving as well.

“Let’s see that address again,” Spike said.

Buffy showed him the piece of paper she’d scribbled it down on, and Spike nodded, taking the next left. “I’ll ask at the next petrol station.”

Buffy smiled. “You’re sounding more British every day, you know?”

“Nothin’ like bein’ back in the home country,” was his rejoinder.

“I’ll go,” she said as soon as he pulled to a stop. “You can pretend that you found it all by yourself.”

Spike watched as she entered the gas station, trying to figure out how he’d been so lucky, and unable to come up with an answer. Supposedly, Giles was having some people work on figuring out what the amulet had really been meant for, but he didn’t much care. It had worked out all right in the end, right? So what it did it matter what the initial plan had been?

Of course, even as that thought went through his head, Spike knew that it probably had a greater impact than he wanted to think about.

“Okay, I think I’ve got it,” Buffy announced, sliding into the passenger seat.

She directed him through the narrow streets past houses and tenements. “Do we know anything about this girl?”

Buffy shook her head. “I guess the coven thought she might be a little younger than most, but other than that, no. I don’t really want another baby Slayer, though.”

“They’re all babies, luv,” Spike replied. “Relatively speaking.”

“Relative to you, maybe,” she said sighing. “It’s just—I was Chosen when I was fifteen, Spike. I lost out on most of my childhood, but some of these girls won’t even have that much.”

Spike wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He loved the fact that Buffy was the Slayer; he loved her strength and her power, although as he’d told her, it wasn’t just the fact that she was the Slayer that had drawn him in. She hadn’t given up; she’d tried, even when the odds were stacked against her.

If the truth was to be told, that’s what had always drawn Spike to the Slayers, first as their Slayer, then as their Champion. He’d always been a sucker for the underdog, having been one himself.

“Would you choose differently?”

“You mean, if I’d had a choice?”

“Yeah.”

There was a long pause. “No.”

“Maybe they’d say the same,” he suggested.

She was quiet for a long moment. “I wouldn’t choose differently because I wouldn’t have you or Dawn otherwise. The same can’t be said for the other Slayers.”

He wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

~~~~~

There were moments when Buffy wondered whether or not it had been worth it. She knew that they’d had little choice but to activate the potentials in order to defeat the First, but when she saw the many girls whose childhoods had been effectively ended as a result, she wondered if there hadn’t been another way.

Finding out that there was another Slayer, this one younger and likely with parents who were going to fight the idea of their little girl battling demons, just made those questions all the more overwhelming. Heck, she’d been seventeen when her mom had found out, and Joyce had had plenty of difficulties accepting it.

“It’s just up there,” she said, pointing up the narrow street towards a nondescript house, lit only by a streetlamp and the lights of their vehicle. They probably should have left the Lake District earlier in the day, but neither of them had been in a hurry to end their vacation.

As Spike pulled to a stop, he turned to look at her. “Look, luv, I know that you have mixed feelings about activating the potentials, but there wasn’t a choice.”

“It was my plan,” Buffy said quietly. “My decision.”

“And every decision has consequences,” he agreed. “But the consequences to not making that choice might have been much worse.”

“Might have,” Buffy confirmed. “Or we would have survived, and these girls would still be normal. We’re having a surge in demon activity because of the spell we did.”

Spike shook his head. “There’s no way of knowin’ that.”

She sighed. “Sorry. I guess it just shakes me up every time I have to pick one of these kids up. The worst part is explaining to their parents what’s going on.”

“You want me to do that?”

Buffy shrugged. “Let’s see which one of us they like better.”

They walked up the front walk towards the door, and Spike’s arm came out to stop her. “Hang on, pet. We’ve got a problem.”

“What?” Buffy saw the front door hanging off its hinges, and she felt her heart sink. “Oh, shit.”

“Pretty much what I was thinkin’,” Spike replied grimly. “Hang on.”

She pulled out her stake and waited for Spike to rejoin her. She knew without being told that he was going back for the weapons in the trunk.

“Here.”

She took the extra stake he handed to her and looked at the ax in his hand. “I don’t get one of those?”

“There was only one.”

“Fine.”

Entering the house together, Buffy thought that it was just like old times back in Sunnydale, only better. They had never been this in tune with one another, nor had they ever been so close. It had been entirely too long since they had fought side by side.

“Anybody here?” Buffy whispered.

“Two heartbeats,” he confirmed. “Dunno whether there’s anybody else here, though.”

She nodded, and then motioned for him to lead. Spike would have a better idea of where the humans were located based on his enhanced senses, and the ax would be effective against just about anything they might face.

The roar came just before the demon appeared. Spike met it with his ax, which it clearly wasn’t expecting, because it didn’t move out of the way. Green blood splattered over the wall as it was eviscerated, and a second blow cracked its skull open.

The demon collapsed, but Buffy sensed something approaching from behind. She whirled to see the yellow eyes of a vampire, the gleaming white of fangs. Her stake found its heart without conscious thought on her part. She probably could have dusted vampires in her sleep.

“Duck!”

She hit the floor, and a moment later felt dust scatter around her. “What?”

“Another one.” He held out a hand to pull her up. “Come on. I think the survivors are around here somewhere.”

“Survivors?”

“There’s blood.” His expression was grim.

This time, the cry was distinctly human, and very young. Buffy moved instinctively, coming between Spike and the young girl wielding a broken chair leg. She disarmed the child easily—the girl was small and untrained—and held her tightly to prevent her escape.

“Easy,” Buffy said. “We’re not going to hurt you. We’re here to help.”

“Let me go!”

“Relax.”

“I’ll kill you!”

“No, you really won’t,” Buffy said. “I’m a Slayer, just like you, and we’re here to help. So relax.”

“You’re with a bloody vampire!” the girl cried, still squirming.

Spike took a step closer and held out the ax. “Would this make you feel better?” He nodded at Buffy, who grimaced but let her go.

The young Slayer didn’t run; instead, she reached out for the ax and took it from Spike’s hands, glancing at the body of the dead demon. “Why don’t you want to kill me?”

“Because I get off on savin’ Slayers,” Spike replied.

She stared at him and returned the ax. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I fell in love with one,” he returned. “Now, where’s your friend?”

She shook her head. “He’s not my friend. He’s my little brother.”

“Where are your parents?” Buffy asked.

Her face twisted in an attempt to stave off tears. “They—I couldn’t—”

Buffy grabbed her in a hug. “I know. Where’s your brother?”

She pointed at a closet, and Spike took three quick steps to open the door. A little boy of about seven came tumbling out, latching onto him tightly. “Yeah, that’s right, lad. You’re safe now.” He glanced at Buffy. “We need to get them out of here.”

“Shouldn’t we call the police?”

He frowned. “S’pose we’d better. If we don’t, we’ll have a bloody manhunt on our hands when they realize the kids are missin’.”

There was a crash from another area of the house, and Buffy cursed. “I think we’d better call from somewhere else.”

She watched as Spike picked the little boy up effortlessly, clutching him close. “Got him.”

Buffy rushed the girl out of the house, keeping a grip on her stake and a sharp eye out for more trouble. They were just out the front door when a hand grabbed her hair and yanked her backwards, causing her to let out a sharp cry.

Rage welled up, and Buffy reached behind her, finding the thing’s head and twisting around, pulling its head off. “Go!” she yelled at Spike, seeing that he’d slowed down.

Picking up her dropped stake, Buffy followed them out. “In the car!”

Spike practically threw the boy in the backseat, and slid behind the wheel. Buffy ushered the girl into the back next to her brother, snarling as she saw another vampire running towards them. Throwing her last stake, she watched as it crumbled into dust, and climbed in.

“Nice throw,” Spike said.

“Thanks.” She pulled out her cell phone and dialed Giles’ number. When her Watcher answered, she said, “We’re safe, but we had some problems.”

“What sort of problems?” he asked.

“They’d already been attacked when we arrived. The Slayer was able to protect herself and her brother, but—” Buffy stopped, mindful of the children in the backseat.

Giles cleared his throat. “I see. Did you get their names? I can send in the authorities.”

“What are your parents’ names?” Buffy asked, deliberately using the present tense to avoid upsetting them further.

The girl’s freckled face was pale in the moonlight. “Shannon and Ed Murray,” she replied. “I’m Nora, and my brother is Harry.”

Buffy passed the information along. “We’re going to get a hotel room for the rest of the night. We couldn’t stick around long enough to call the police from the house.”

“Of course not. I’ll likely tell them that the children were staying with friends of the family,” Giles said. “That should reduce the questions. We’ll make further arrangements tomorrow. Call me when you can.”

Buffy knew what he meant. She was to call him when they weren’t around the kids, when she could speak freely. “Will do.”

She ended the call, staring out the window, taking slow breaths. The fight wasn’t what had freaked her out—it was the idea of a couple of kids in the backseat who had just watched their parents die. She and Spike were responsible for them now.

“You two hungry?” Spike was the one to ask, breaking the silence.

There was a moment of silence, and Buffy thought she heard a deep, shuddering sigh, as though one of them was or had been crying. “No,” Nora said. “We had dinner.”

Buffy realized that she hadn’t explained anything. She had to figure out something to tell them, to explain why it was that monsters had killed their parents and wanted to kill them, who she and Spike were, and why they had arrived in time to save the two of them, but not their parents.

She had no words.

“Um, miss?”

Buffy turned around in her seat to face the two of them. Harry had been the one to speak, his hazel eyes wet with unshed tears. “What’s your name, miss?”

She summoned up a smile that she hoped was reassuring. “I’m Buffy, and this is Spike. We’re going to take care of you guys. I promise.”

They nodded in unison, likely too traumatized to argue just then, perhaps relieved to have the decision-making taken out of their hands. She turned back around, and her eyes met Spike’s.

This time, when her hand sought his, it was for her own comfort.


	22. New Council Headquarters, Bath, England

**“…Things around here have been kind of crazy. The Slayer that Spike found in London arrived a few days ago, and she’s already causing problems. I think Spike could handle her, but he’s not back from Dunham yet. I guess that Nora is only ten, which is pretty amazing when you consider that she managed to defend herself and her little brother. Buffy and Spike should be bringing them back here today…” ~Excerpt from an email from Dawn Summers to Xander Harris**

“I can smoke if I like!” Talia’s voice carried clearly. “It’s not like it’s gonna kill me.”

“It might,” Giles said, his tone indicating that he didn’t much care one way or another at that moment.

Dawn glanced up from the book she’d been reading as he marched the girl into his office. “Dawn, if you would excuse us, I think we need to have a private conversation.”

Dawn raised her eyebrows, ignoring the suggestion. Giles could take care of himself, but Talia seemed capable of pressing every one of his buttons—usually at the same time. “Why not wait until Spike gets back? Just lock her in her room for a couple of days. Or, better yet, in the dungeon.”

“You don’t have a dungeon,” Talia shot back, although there was enough uncertainty in her voice that Giles apparently decided to play along.

“Don’t tempt me,” he replied tiredly. “Talia, there are some rules that you simply must follow.”

“Why?”

Dawn could have sworn she heard Giles mutter, “Why me?” But, since his hands were in front of his face, she couldn’t be certain.

“Because we’re in a war,” Dawn said bluntly. “And we’ve been fighting it for longer than you have. We don’t want you to die any sooner than you have to.”

For the first time, Dawn saw a crack in her bravado, although it was only a small one. “I don’t see what smoking has to do with it.”

“It doesn’t have anything to do with it,” Giles admitted. “But it’s not good for you, and it sets a bad example for the others. I would prefer it if you didn’t.”

Talia considered that for a moment. “What if I only smoke outside?”

“_That_ goes without saying,” Giles said severely. “If I catch you smoking inside again, I’ll send you back to your parents.”

Dawn thought that might have been the only threat that would make an impact on the girl. However rebellious she might be, Talia clearly liked being a Slayer, and she liked the physical training. In fact, Vi and Audra were about the only teachers at the Academy who had good things to say about her.

“I’ll try not to smoke,” Talia promised sullenly.

Giles seemed to unbend a bit at that. “I realize that it’s difficult to quit. Perhaps we can speak to Miriam. She might have some idea of how to make it easier.”

Talia grimace. “No thanks. When is Spike getting back? I thought he was a teacher here.”

Dawn had to bite her lip to hold back a snicker. She had yet to meet a Slayer who didn’t have at least a little bit of a crush on Spike, but Talia was not subtle about it. What amused her was that Spike, while certainly not oblivious, had eyes only for her sister. He was totally out of the girl’s league.

“He is a teacher here,” Giles was saying. “But he and Buffy are taking care of a small problem up north. Now, as I remember, you’re supposed to be in class.”

“Stupid literature,” Talia muttered, but she rose obediently enough.

Dawn waited until she was well out of earshot before commenting. “Spike did warn you.”

“He ought to be here,” Giles responded. “I have a feeling that only he or Faith would be capable of handling that girl.”

She grinned at his tone. “Oh?”

Giles’ look was severe. “Just wait,” he warned her. “One of these days, you’ll be in charge of your own group, and I doubt you’ll be laughing then.”

Dawn’s eyes went wide. “What?”

“You’ll have your own band of Slayers, Dawn.”

She swallowed. “Giles, I don’t think—”

“It won’t be tomorrow,” he interrupted, anticipating her objection. “You’ll need plenty of training yet, and I imagine that when you do take charge, it won’t be alone.”

“What do you mean?”

Giles leaned back in his seat. “My intention is to make certain that no Watcher is ever alone, just as no Slayer should ever be alone. It simply makes sense to create partnerships, where one person can provide the necessary backup.”

Dawn gave him a skeptical look. “What are you going to tell Buffy?”

“By then, you’ll be able to tell her yourself.” Giles took a deep breath. “Did you see the email that Faith sent?”

She nodded. “What are we going to do?”

“I’m planning on asking Miriam to send one of the witches from the coven,” Giles replied. “And perhaps one of the older Slayers.”

She thought about the girls she knew that might be old enough to be of service, but then shook her head. “I don’t think any of the Slayers we’ve got here would be a good fit for Kennedy. I’d send one of the younger Watchers.”

The head Watcher pulled off his glasses, rubbing his eyes wearily. “And who would you suggest?”

“Cole.”

Giles’ eyes went wide. “Oh? Why?”

“He’s competent with weapons and hand-to-hand, and he’s laid back, so he’s not going to insist on being in control.” Dawn grinned. “Plus, he’s cute, so they’re more likely to try to impress him than run him off.”

“I wouldn’t have thought about that,” he admitted. “You make a good point.”

“What about Spike and Buffy?” Dawn asked.

Giles shook his head. “I have a very young, very traumatized Slayer to deal with, as well as a child who should not be here.”

“He didn’t have anywhere else to go.” Dawn sympathized with the poor kid. In a way, she’d been in the same boat—roped into the “saving the world” gig because of her sister.

“No, there wasn’t another choice,” he agreed. “We’ll find a place for him here, and I suppose I’ll keep both Spike and Buffy here. Given a bit of time, perhaps we could locate a relative who would be willing to take the boy.”

Dawn shook her head. “That’s not fair, Giles, not unless he wants to go. You can’t split up siblings.”

His expression was compassionate. “Yes, well, I see what you’re saying.”

“We’ll figure it out, I’m sure.” Dawn took a deep breath. “It doesn’t seem fair, does it?”

“What doesn’t seem fair, my dear?”

“That these Slayers don’t even have a fighting chance.”

Giles didn’t reply; Dawn didn’t think that there was anything he could say.

~~~~~

Spike carried Harry inside; the boy had fallen asleep on the drive back to Bath, and it had seemed wrong to wake him, particularly because his sleep was interrupted almost constantly by nightmares.

Glancing behind him, he could see Buffy ushering Nora along, as she carried what luggage she could. They had gone back for some of the children’s things before leaving Dunham, but it had felt as though too much was left behind.

Spike glanced down at Harry’s auburn curls. He was a brave little boy, and Spike couldn’t help but feel a certain protectiveness.

“Hey, Spike.” Vi came down the stairs. “We were expecting you awhile ago. Giles gave up and went somewhere with Miriam.”

He shrugged. “Had to take it slow. We’ll catch up with him later.”

Audra followed behind. “There’s a bedroom ready for the two of them upstairs. If they don’t want to share, we can change it around, but I thought they might be more comfortable like that.”

“Good plan,” Spike responded. “Thanks for that.”

Vi looked over his shoulder to see Buffy and Nora entering the house. “Are there more bags in the car?”

Buffy nodded. “A few. If you wouldn’t mind—”

“I’ll take care of it,” Vi promised, heading out the door.

Audra knelt down in front of Nora. “Hi. I’m Audra.”

“I’m Nora.” The girl’s face was solemn. She was small for her age, but that didn’t mean much, since she was only ten. As far as Spike knew, she was the youngest Slayer yet, and from what she’d said, she’d only recently been Chosen.

Which he supposed answered the question of whether or not all the Slayers had been Chosen, or whether more would be activated either as they aged or others died.

“Well, Nora, would you like to see your room?” Audra asked, holding out her hand. After a moment’s hesitation, the child slipped her hand in the older girl’s. “You know,” Audra began, “there are a bunch of us who live here, and all of us are really excited about you coming to stay.”

“What about my brother?” Nora asked.

“He’ll stay, too, if he wants,” Audra replied.

“And will I kill the monsters?” Nora sounded fierce, and Spike winced. She was a child, and her innocence had been stripped from her.

Audra knelt down in front of the child again, putting her hands on Nora’s shoulders. “Yeah. That’s what we do, and we’re going to show you how.”

Nora nodded, her hazel eyes bright with both tears and rage. “Good.”

Harry stirred in Spike’s arms, whimpering a little. Spike cradled him closer. “Hush now, Harry,” he murmured. “We’re home now.”

The boy buried his face in Spike’s shirt, and murmured something Spike just managed to catch. “Hungry, huh? Nora? You want to get somethin’ to eat once you see your room?”

She nodded. “Yes, please.”

“Spike?” Buffy’s voice caught him. “I’m going to go lie down—in our room.”

He heard the invitation in her voice, and he nodded. “Be right there, soon as I get these two fed.”

Audra held out her arms for Harry. “I’ve got him, Spike, if you want to go.”

He hesitated. “You two gonna be alright?”

When they both nodded, Spike shrugged. “Right, then. Come find us if you need anythin’.”

Spike still wasn’t quite sure he wanted to leave them alone, even though they’d be in good hands with Audra. He sighed, and turned towards what was apparently _their_ bedroom now.

Buffy stepped into his arms as soon as the door closed behind him. Spike held her close, breathing in deeply. “You okay?”

“No,” she admitted. “This shouldn’t have happened, Spike.”

He couldn’t think of anything to say, so he kissed her, giving comfort, receiving comfort. His hands stroked her arms, her back. He pushed her shirt up slightly, stroking the soft skin of her waist and stomach.

“I love you,” she gasped in between kisses. “I don’t say that enough.”

“You say it plenty, luv.” That she said it at all was a miracle to him; Spike had no idea how he’d managed a second chance, but he was going to take advantage of it.

When they made it to the bed, their lovemaking was slow and easy, more about comfort than anything else. She gripped his shoulders, her fingers digging into bone and muscle. If he’d been anyone else, she would have left bruises. As it was, the pain simply heightened his pleasure.

“I can’t lose you,” Buffy said. “It would destroy me.”

Spike stopped, pulling back. “What makes you say that?”

She searched his face, as though imprinting his features on her memory. “I just wonder sometimes. The coven gave you that ring for a reason. They said I’d always be able to find you.”

“Doesn’t that mean that you always will?” Spike asked. “No matter what happens, Buffy, I’m yours. I won’t stop fighting for you, an’ that means livin’ for you, too.”

Buffy didn’t answer in words; her hands and her lips spoke volumes.

~~~~~

“I can see why you’d be concerned,” Miriam murmured. “I really do believe that it would be in the boy’s best interests to stay with his sister, however.”

“And who will care for him?” Giles asked. “He’s of an age where he needs a mother.”

“You arranged for your guardianship with the authorities?” Miriam asked.

Giles nodded. “It wasn’t too hard. There is a former Watcher living in Dunham, and he intervened.”

“There were no relatives?”

“No. Apparently there are no living relatives capable of taking him.”

Miriam leaned back in her chair, swirling the wine in her glass thoughtfully. “I’ll come back to the school with you tonight and see what I can do.”

“What are you thinking?” Giles knew that Miriam had a soft spot for children, but he hadn’t thought of asking her to take the boy.

She shrugged. “I have a number of women who can fill my place here. I think I might be needed more at the school.”

He wasn’t sure what he thought of that. Having Miriam underfoot could end up being rather interesting. “Are you offering yourself as his caretaker?”

Miriam gave him a look. “You will need me to be there, I think.”

Giles sighed. “I see. More cryptic messages?”

She shrugged noncommittally. “Perhaps. Or perhaps I just want the opportunity to be close to you.”

He swallowed hard. “Oh?”

“I believe this is going somewhere, and I think I’d like to see where it leads us.”

“Something else you’ve seen in your bowl?”

Her smile was mysterious. “No. I don’t need to see into the future to know that.”

For some reason, that made Giles feel just a little better. “Then we really ought to see where this takes us.”

~~~~~

Talia swaggered into her weapons class. She’d heard that Spike was back, and she was planning on impressing him with her prowess.

“Talia, there you are,” Spike said as she came in. “You’re a bit late.”

“Sorry,” she said off-handedly. “Must have been lookin’ at a slow clock.”

He raised his scarred eyebrow. “Is that so? Well, then, you’re up first. Nora, luv, I want you to pay close attention.”

Talia was a little taken aback by his tone, and she realized that he was speaking to a little girl who was standing at the edge of the group. She had to wonder how a kid like that got into Spike’s good graces, although she’d heard that he’d brought back another Slayer.

“Buffy? You want to demonstrate a few disabling moves?”

Talia’s eyes went wide. She’d been hearing about _the_ Slayer ever since she’d arrived. Tipping her chin up, she decided that there was no way that she was going to let on how intimidated she was.

At Spike’s signal, she rushed in, using the moves she’d learned from Audra and Vi in the last week. Talia actually managed to get a punch past Buffy’s defenses, but it was only a glancing blow, and she was flat on her back on the mats in no time flat.

“That was good,” Buffy said, offering her a hand up.

For a moment, Talia thought about rejecting the offer, but decided that it probably wasn’t in her best interests. “Thanks.”

“You’ll notice that Buffy took Talia out without trying very hard,” Spike said, addressing the group. “The reason for that is because she’s been an active Slayer for nearly eight years now. With training and practice, you’ll get to be that good, too, assuming that you survive.”

“Break up into pairs,” Buffy called. “Practice the hand-to-hand moves that Vi and Audra have been showing you this past week.”

Talia looked around and realized that her only possible partner was Nora, but there was no way she wanted to be saddled with a kid. Spike caught her eye as she opened her mouth to protest and gave a quick shake of his head. There was something in his expression that made her hesitate, and she glanced at the young girl.

“You, uh, want to be my partner?” she asked.

Nora shook her head. “I don’t know any of those moves.”

Talia smiled, realizing that here, at last, was someone she could impress. “That’s okay. I’ll show you.”

She was too focused on Nora to see the approving look that Spike sent her way—but maybe that was for the best.


	23. Pretoria, South Africa

**“…Really, Will, I’m feeling a lot better. My ribs are still a little sore, but Corey’s been making me take it easy, and I have been. It’s been a quiet week around here, which we’ve needed. Tell Oz hello for me, too. I’m glad you’ve got someone there with you…” ~Excerpt from an email from Xander Harris to Willow Rosenberg**

“Xander Harris, don’t you even think about it.”

Xander froze in the doorway, rifle in hand. “Corey—”

“You are in no shape to go hunting, Xander, and you know it.”

The trouble was that he did know it, which was why he’d been sneaking out, rather than just walking out. No matter what he’d said to Willow, the fact was that he wasn’t healing quite as quickly as he would have liked.

“We need the meat,” he responded. “And I was going to call Kei to come with me.”

“Send Whit.” Her tone brooked no room for argument. “You will not be going anywhere until you can walk without wincing.”

Xander sighed. “He’s training the girls.”

She held her hand out for the gun. “Then I’ll go.”

When he met Corey’s eyes, Xander was certain that there was no way he was getting out the door in one piece—and she was definitely better trained than he was. “Fine. Call Whit. I’d rather you stay here with the girls.”

Corey raised an eyebrow. “Are you worried about me, or the girls?”

“I’m worried about him and Emily.” It felt good to say the words out loud, because it was true. He could see their growing attraction, and he remembered what it was like to be seventeen.

It was a scary thought.

“Perhaps you should have a talk with him,” she suggested.

Xander raised his eyebrows. “I don’t think so. If I warn either of them off, it’s just going to encourage them.”

Corey smiled. “Good point. Tell you what, I’ll take Whit out hunting with me, and you work on training.”

“I thought you warned me off of physical labor.”

“Hunting is dangerous. You can watch the girls spar without hurting yourself.”

Xander sighed. “You aren’t going to be able to keep me out of the field forever.”

“Just long enough for you to heal,” she shot back, softening her words with a kiss. “I told you. When you can walk without pain, you’ll be free to do whatever you want.”

He didn’t reply, knowing when an argument was fruitless. Xander just gave her another kiss and went back inside the school.

Xander wasn’t sure why it was taking him so long to recover this time around, although he was willing to admit that the guerrillas had done quite a number on him. Maybe he should just be happy to be alive, but he still wanted to be useful.

“Are you staying here today, Xander?”

Nàtali’s voice broke into his thoughts. She was dancing from foot to foot, her bare feet slapping against the tile floor. Although they’d bought shoes for her, she still went barefoot most of the time, preferring it.

“I’m staying, kiddo,” he responded. “Looks like I’ll be helping you train.”

“Hooray!” She danced around a bit, the pure joy on her face making his heart warm. “I thought you were too hurt!”

“Well, I’ll be doing a lot of watching, and I’ll need lots of help.”

“I can help!”

“I know you can, Nat.” He put a hand on the top of her head. “You go get ready, and tell the other girls to do the same.”

Xander took a deep breath, and reminded himself that he wasn’t useless, not as long as he could do something with the Slayers.

~~~~~

“Let’s go.”

Whit glanced up from his book, staring at Corey. “What?”

“We’re going hunting.”

“But what about training the girls?” He frowned, uncertain. “Who’s going to do it if we don’t?”

“Xander is taking care of it,” Corey replied. “He’s beginning to get antsy, and I’d rather start him out on something less dangerous.”

Whit nodded soberly. Xander’s injuries were yet another reminder of the damage that could be done to a human body in their line of work. He hadn’t been sure that Xander’s decision to enlist the Oribi was a good one, nor had he thought it wise to trust them, but they had come through.

And Xander, whom Whit had respected for his experience, but not for his toughness, had proved to be hard as nails.

“He’s kind of a hero, isn’t he?” Whit asked.

Corey frowned. “Who is?”

“Xander. He’s a hero.”

“Of course he is.” She cast him a sharp look. “What did you think?”

“I don’t know.”

Corey sighed. “Do you know how Xander lost his eye?”

Whit shook his head. “I didn’t think it was a good idea to ask.”

She nodded. “Probably not. There was a man who was intent on killing all of the potential Slayers, and was working in conjunction with the First Evil. Xander lost his eye during one of the battles. The man called him ‘the one who saw.’”

“So what?”

“Xander lost an eye doing what he does best—seeing people, helping where he can. That’s why he’s here, Whit, because in his own way, he’s braver than all of us put together.” Corey smiled softly. “He’s not a Slayer, not a witch, not a Watcher. He’s simply a man who wants to do what’s right. That’s his special skill.”

Whit wondered if he would have made the same choice if he was in Xander’s shoes. Without having grown up in the Watcher’s Council, without having been taught his entire life that his purpose was to rid the world of demons and vampires, would he have chosen to fight?

Whit had to admit that he didn’t know the answer to that question, and of course, he never would.

“Do you ever wonder if life would have been different if—”

“If what?”

“If you were something else?”

Corey was quiet for a long moment. “I was supposed to be a Slayer. I would have been if I’d been just a little younger when they were all activated.”

“Oh.” Whit hadn’t known that. “I didn’t realize.”

“Not many people know,” she admitted. “But to answer your question, yes. I do wonder, but I don’t wish for anything different than what I have right now. I’m amazingly lucky.”

Whit smiled. He supposed he was pretty lucky as well.

~~~~~

Xander watched as Zindy and Ilori sparred. They were both coming along quickly, and he didn’t see anything to criticize, so he turned to Leotta and Nàtali, who were practicing with stakes and the practice dummy under Emily’s watchful eye.

Although he hadn’t been certain how Emily would do, given her family background and her drawn appearance when they’d met, she’d blossomed in the last weeks. Her skills were improving by leaps and bounds, and she treated the younger girls like sisters.

Xander smiled. He couldn’t help but think that he’d been able to build something amazing here.

Hearing the sound of a throat being cleared behind him, Xander turned to find Miles standing in the doorway. “You have a visitor, Xander.”

“Who is it?”

“One of our Oribi friends.” Miles gestured towards the girls. “I can take over for you here. I believe that whatever errand he’s come on is rather urgent. I left him in your office.”

Feeling a sudden thrill of fear, Xander moved as briskly as possible towards the office. “Kei,” he greeted his friend, closing the door behind him. “It’s good to see you again.”

“How are you feeling, my friend?” Kei asked, rising from his chair.

Xander shrugged. “Corey still has me on the reserved list, but I’m doing better.” At the Oribi’s puzzled expression, he shrugged. “I’m not quite recovered, but I’m getting there.”

“Ah.” Kei looked hesitant. “Perhaps I should not have come.”

Xander waved off his concern. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve been through worse. What’s up?”

That wasn’t precisely true; although losing his eye had been worse in a sense, the pain had been localized. Xander still felt as though his body was one big ache.

Kei spread his hands out in front of him in a curious gesture. “There is a darkness coming, Xander. We do not believe that we can face it ourselves.”

“If you need help, you’ve got it,” Xander said automatically. “Without your assistance, we would have lost a couple of Slayers, and I definitely wouldn’t be alive.”

The demon shook his head. “It is not so simple, I think. This is bigger.”

Xander’s heart sank. “You’re saying that the end is coming.”

“Events are coming to a head,” Kei agreed. “All of our seers say this.”

“Then we face it together,” Xander insisted. “We promised to help you in exchange for your assistance, and I’m not going back on my word now.”

Kei nodded gravely. “I thank you.”

“You didn’t think we’d abandon you?” Xander asked, feeling slightly hurt.

“I did not,” Kei replied diplomatically. “But then I have ever been an optimist.”

“What can we do now?” Xander asked.

Kei shook his head. “I do not think you can help us until you are well.”

“I’m well enough,” he replied firmly, knowing that Corey was likely to kick his ass later if she found out that he was putting himself back out in the field without consulting her first.

Kei looked him up and down, his solemn expression showing some concern. “Very well. There is a group gathering on the border of our land. It is our belief that they are gathering strength in preparation for attack.”

“You think this has something to do with our agreement?” Xander asked.

Kei shrugged. “Perhaps, perhaps not. We are peaceful, and our lands are directly over a point of power. We have always kept it safe, and it is more likely that they would choose to attack in order to obtain control.”

“You have a Hellmouth?” Xander exclaimed. “I didn’t know there was one around here.”

Kei smiled tightly. “We would prefer to keep it that way.”

“I can see why.” Xander leaned back in his seat, considering their options. Kei would not have come if he hadn’t intended to investigate the intruders immediately. The fact that Xander wasn’t quite healed had put a damper on his plans. “We’re just looking, right?”

“Yes,” Kei responded. “But I cannot promise that there won’t be trouble.”

“No one can.” Xander smiled wryly. “I know how that works. How many do you want to take?”

“Ebu, and one other of yours, I believe.”

Xander ran a hand through his hair and adjusted his eye patch as he considered his options. If he waited until Whit and Corey returned, he could send the two of them, or even take one of them with him.

Or, he could go himself and bring one of the Slayers.

“I’ll get Emily,” Xander said decisively. “I’m assuming you want to leave right away.”

Kei nodded. “It will be a four day trip.”

Xander rose. “I’ll let Emily know and leave a note for Corey.”

She was definitely going to kill him when she returned, but Xander decided that it was a risk he would take. He owed Kei his life, and this little errand would go towards repaying that debt, as well as demonstrating his good intentions towards the Oribi.

~~~~~

“He _what_?” Corey demanded of Miles. “And you let him?”

“Xander is a grown man,” Miles reminded her gently. “And he’s in command here. If he believes himself capable of a reconnaissance mission, I am not going to stand there and argue with him.”

“I don’t see why not,” Corey muttered. “You’ve argued plenty.” She was staring at the note that Xander had left behind for her to find.

_“Corey, I know you’re going to kill me when I get back, but the Oribi need to know that we’re serious about helping them. This is the best way to do that, and if they’re overrun and the Hellmouth opens, we’re going to be in just as much trouble.”_

Her only consolation was that he’d signed it, “Love, Xander.”

What’s worse was that she knew he was right. One of them had to go, and although she’d been the one to get through to them, Xander was in charge. It would mean a lot for them to send their leader, rather than someone else—and that he would go while still hurt said even more.

Still, Corey couldn’t help but worry about him. This might be reconnaissance-only, but that didn’t mean that they wouldn’t run into more trouble.

“He is doing what he believes to be correct,” Miles said. “I couldn’t very well argue with that.”

“Of course not,” Corey sighed. “And he’s right, although that doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“It wouldn’t,” Miles replied philosophically. “He does seem prone to getting himself into scrapes.”

“He’s prone to playing hero when he can.” She shook her head. “His sense of responsibility is going to get him killed.”

“And that is one of the reasons that you are attracted to him.” Miles smiled. “I’ll stay here to help out until he returns. Besides, Giles called before you returned and after Xander left. They’ve found a new Slayer in Johannesburg.”

Corey did a quick mental calculation. “I’ll go. You and Whit should be able to hold down the fort here.”

“Take one of the girls with you,” Miles advised. “Perhaps Nàtali. She’s coming along nicely, and she could win over anyone.”

Corey grinned. “That she could.”

Neither of them considered what Kei’s news meant for their journey.

~~~~~

Emily couldn’t believe that she was sitting in the backseat of a Land Rover behind Xander, with a demon driving. Granted, Kei wasn’t exactly what she’d thought of when she heard the word “demon,” but still. It was weird.

She’d always felt like she was different. She was an American in Africa, but felt African in America. The youngest of her siblings by several years, she’d never been close to them, and her parents had always been really protective. Becoming the Slayer, discovering a well of strength beyond what she could have imagined, finding a place and a family—it was more than she’d known to hope for.

As cool as it was, though, it was still weird.

“Corey isn’t going to be happy,” Emily said for the third time. She didn’t think that Xander fully understood _how_ upset the woman was likely to be.

“I know that, Em,” he replied. “But this was necessary, and I’ve got you to keep me out of trouble.” Xander turned around in his seat far enough to give her a boyish grin that made him look years younger.

Emily often thought that she’d have liked her siblings a whole lot more if they were more like Xander and Corey.

“I will keep him out of trouble.” Kei’s voice was entirely without inflection, and Emily had no idea whether he was being serious or attempting a joke.

Emily decided that she’d treat it as the latter. “Good, because it’s probably too big of a job for one person.”

“Hey!” Xander protested.

She had the pleasure of seeing Kei’s face crease in a brief grin, then the Oribi grew serious again. “Forgive me, but I do not have permission to bring you to our village. I must leave you outside the boundaries until I ensure that our elders will not refuse to allow you to leave.”

Emily could see Xander’s eyebrows rise. “Yeah, that would be awkward,” he agreed. “We’ll be fine, Kei. We’ll set up camp for the night.”

Kei nodded. “I will try to return before sundown.”

Emily heard the fear in his voice, and she suddenly realized that there was a whole lot more going on here than he’d said.

She suddenly wondered if they could trust the Oribi after all.


	24. Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

**“…Now that you mention it, we have seen more demon activity lately. After Faith took care of the Demos, things got pretty quiet, but there have been a lot more demons and vampires around. Zoë’s been keeping the girls pretty busy, and so has Arnold. I hadn’t really thought about what it might mean…” ~Excerpt from an email from Willow Rosenberg to Rupert Giles**

Willow disentangled herself from Oz, trying not to wake him.

“Where are you going?” he mumbled sleepily.

“I need to check on something,” Willow replied.

“Need my help?”

“It’s a magical sort of checking.” Her voice was apologetic. She hated leaving him out, or for him to feel as though she was keeping a wall between them, but there were things that he wasn’t sharing with her also.

She supposed it was simply the nature of the game.

“Hurry back,” Oz said, giving her a quick kiss and settling back down to sleep.

Willow couldn’t blame him for being hesitant about getting out of bed. They had been pulling long patrols lately—all of them—and it was only five. The sun wasn’t over the horizon yet, which was exactly why she was awake at this ungodly hour. Sunrise was a potent time for spell-casting.

She set up her circle, preparing to call on the goddess for true sight. She wanted to know whether Xander’s report of increased demon activity in Africa was at all related to what was going on here.

Plus, there was Buffy and Spike’s run-in with a vampire/demon tag-team that didn’t bode well; the last time that happened, Adam had been running the show. It seemed to indicate that something more powerful was calling the shots.

Willow had hesitated to perform this ritual, knowing that it was a serious matter to ask for assistance. The powers tended to prefer it when humans helped themselves, rather than relying on divine intervention, but she didn’t feel as though she had a choice.

If it was true—if the darkness was gathering—then the time for her to perform Miriam’s request was also drawing near, and Willow would prefer to put it off as long as possible.

After setting up the circle, Willow set up her brazier, and prepared the other ingredients she would need. This early in the morning, she didn’t need to fear being interrupted by the Slayers or Watchers. It was unlikely that anyone would be awake for hours yet.

She began her chant, dropping into the light trance she’d learned during her time with the coven and cast the first herb on the fire. Under certain circumstances, it would induce hallucinations, but as she was using it now, the ingredient merely made her more receptive.

Once she was certain that it was working, Willow cast the next handful onto the fire. This one caused a plume of blue-green smoke to drift up, and she started into the whorls and eddies, opening her mind to whatever she might see.

Willow swallowed hard when she saw the face of a Demos demon, then behind him a host of other demons and vampires. She could see herself and Oz trying to hold the door to the school closed, then the entire scene seemed to disappear.

Now, she saw an army of Slayers, all of them armed, their faces wearing identical expressions of grim determination. In front of them was a horde, comprised of demons that Willow had never seen before—and she swore she could see a dragon. Behind the demons was a rip in the sky spitting blue fire, and she knew that it would be her job to close the rip before more demons came through.

Finally, she saw Buffy standing alone on a hill, overlooking a city that appeared to be devastated, although by what Willow couldn’t have said.

She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, Tara’s face appeared in the smoke. “Tara?” she whispered, unable to believe her eyes.

“I don’t have much time.” Her voice was the same—sweet and serious. There was such strength there, and not for the first time did Willow wonder why she had been the one to survive. Tara would have done a better job. She would have understood more.

Willow swallowed. “What is it?”

“The darkness is gathering for one last push. The First Evil was merely the spearhead, ripping a hole big enough for the rest to enter.”

She felt her stomach sink. “Then it was my fault.”

“The Eye of Beljoxa lied,” Tara replied, her words blunt and to the point. “It was a servant of the First, hoping to convince you or Buffy, or one of the others to take matters into your own hands. At the very least, it was trying to sow dissension and distrust.”

Willow shook her head. “I don’t understand. What threw the balance off?”

Tara’s sigh smelled of ashes from the fire. “There was a choice made—several, actually. Good and evil usually have an equal hold over the hearts of people, but there was a moment when evil had the upper hand, and that was all it needed.”

“What do I need to do?” Willow asked, knowing that if Tara’s time was short, she needed as much concrete information as she could get.

Tara smiled. “Just what you’re doing. Find the Slayers, train them, love.” Her face softened. “I’m happy for you, Will.”

“I still miss you,” Willow admitted.

“I know.” Tara’s figure appeared fully in the smoke, and her voice was whisper thin when she said, “When the time comes, trust Miriam. She’s right about Buffy and Spike.”

“Is there anything else?”

“Never stop fighting, or the darkness will win.”

She was gone in the next breath, and Willow wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her forehead on her knees. She wasn’t sure that she’d gained any new information; Willow had already decided to trust Miriam, knowing that there was no other choice. Ending the fight before it was won wasn’t an option, although Tara’s words indicated that there wouldn’t be an end—ever.

But she’d known that already, too.

Maybe what she’d really needed was to have Tara’s blessing, to know that she was okay, that she was still somewhere, in some form, and it certainly seemed she was.

That didn’t assuage the ache in her heart.

~~~~~

Oz hadn’t been sure what awaited him in Brazil. He’d been in a lot of places in the world over the last few years, never settling down, never able to call one location home. There was a piece of him that always knew that Willow was his home, and he’d never be content without her.

When he’d heard about Sunnydale, he’d had no choice but to make sure that Willow—and the others—were safe. As soon as Giles had told him that Tara was dead, Oz knew that he had to see Willow again—face to face.

He couldn’t deny that there was a certain amount of hope there, that he wanted her to welcome him back with open arms, that he wanted a chance to start anew.

Oz had never believed that he’d actually get that chance, however.

Sitting in the small kitchen, he watched as she brewed coffee and sliced fruit. “You okay?”

“Huh?” Willow glanced up, clearly distracted. “Oh, yeah. I’m fine.”

“How did the thing go this morning?”

He could see the debate in her eyes as she decided whether to tell him the truth. “I don’t know,” she finally admitted.

His eyebrows went up, and he accepted the cup of coffee she held out in silence, knowing that she would explain sooner or later, having said that much.

“It’s just—I saw Tara.”

“Oh.” Oz couldn’t help but think that he would always come in second to the dead woman. Not only was she dead, and therefore more likely to be afforded the saintly status that many of the departed take on, but she hadn’t screwed up as badly as he had.

And Willow had chosen her, when you got right down to it. Oz knew that he was a poor replacement.

“She—she gave us her blessing.”

He blinked, having no idea what to say to that. “I see.”

“She also said that the darkness is getting ready for a final push,” Willow said, hurrying on. “I saw—I think some really bad stuff is coming, and I still don’t know what to do about it.”

“Maybe we don’t have to do anything but keep fighting,” Oz suggested. “That’s what we’ve done before, and it’s always worked out.”

“That’s basically what Tara said.”

He watched her face, could see the struggle that she was going through. Willow was struggling with something, and she didn’t know how to tell him; he’d seen that look on her face before. “You can tell me, Willow,” Oz said gently. “Whatever it is, I’ll be here for you.”

She hesitated a moment longer, and then the tension seemed to leave her. “Do you know Miriam?”

Oz shook his head. “Doesn’t sound familiar.”

“She’s the head of the coven,” Willow explained. “And she was my teacher when I was there.”

Oz nodded to show that he understood. They’d caught up on quite a bit since he’d arrived; Willow had told him everything—from her descent into darkness after Tara’s death, to what she’d done in the Hellmouth in order to stop the First.

“She told me that there was a battle coming, a big one. It might even be _the_ battle, the one that pretty much ends things.”

“If we lose.”

“If we lose,” she agreed. “She also told me that Spike’s going to be in danger, and that Buffy is going to try to save him, but I can’t let her. That if I do, they’ll both die.”

Oz could see the problem in that scenario. Buffy certainly wouldn’t thank Willow if she arrived too late to save her boyfriend. He was well acquainted with the Slayer’s insistence on protecting the man she loved.

Although Buffy wasn’t really _the_ Slayer anymore.

“She didn’t say that Spike was going to die, though, right?” he asked, wanting to reassure her any way he could.

Willow hesitated, then shook her head. “No, and she gave him a ring that will allow Buffy to find him anywhere, but—”

“But losing her boyfriend for any length of time makes Buffy crazy, and you’re afraid that she’ll blame you.”

She nodded. “I don’t want to lose my friend, Oz, but if I don’t, I think we might lose the war. The bowl doesn’t show things that aren’t true, or that won’t come to pass. If it’s too uncertain, it won’t show anything at all.”

“Then you don’t have a choice,” he replied gently. “Buffy will understand once you explain that to her.”

Willow buried her head in his shoulder. “Do you ever wish that we were back in high school?”

He thought about it for a moment, thought about the terrible innocence of that time, how little he’d really known about himself, about betrayal and courage and living with the beast inside.

“No,” Oz replied honestly. “We know too much now to go back there—and we knew too little then.”

After a moment’s silence, Willow raised her head, revealing green eyes swimming with tears. “Do you ever wish we were normal?”

Oz didn’t need any time to think about that question. “Yeah. Sometimes.”

He meant the kiss he gave her to be a comfort, and he hoped that it would do some good.

~~~~~

Zoë stood in front of her mirror, straightening the dress she wore, half-thinking that she’d be better off changing. Surely it was a little too revealing, showed a few too many curves. She wasn’t thin like Willow, and she never would be.

“It’s okay to be voluptuous,” she reminded herself. “Men appreciate that.”

Well, some men did, anyway. She’d known plenty who appeared more interested in someone a bit more waif-like than she’d ever managed to be.

It was her third date with Arnold, and she was beginning to realize that she liked him—a lot. More than liked him, actually, and with that feeling came the pressure to impress him, and the fear that she never would.

“This is stupid,” she told her reflection fiercely. “You’re friends, and if there’s something more there, then we can find out together.”

“They say the first sign of madness is talking to yourself.”

Zoë whirled to find Rhoda standing in the doorway. “Oh. You startled me.” Rhoda let out a low whistle, and Zoë suddenly noticed Ximena and Matilde standing behind her. “Is there something you need?” she asked stiffly.

“A hot date?” Rhoda suggested, slipping inside the room with the two other Slayers, and closing the door behind her. “Seriously, Zoë. Arnold is going to flip his lid. When did you get that dress?”

She shrugged, trying to make it seem as though she bought a new dress every day—even new blue dresses that hugged her curves and cost a month’s salary. “Just a day or two ago. I saw it in a shop window as I was running to the market.”

“You are a beauty,” Matilde said admiringly. “I wish I could wear a dress such as that one.”

Zoë felt herself flush. “Oh, well, I thought maybe I would change. I don’t think it looks as good on me as—”

“Stop right there,” Rhoda ordered. “Don’t even say it, because Matilde is right. You look amazing.” She held up a bag. “All you need are a few finishing touches.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Cosmetics,” Teresa said precisely. “You wear little.”

“I don’t think—”

Rhoda nudged her towards the bed. “Don’t think,” she said. “Just put yourself into our capable hands, and I promise that Emrys will end up ripping that dress off.”

“I’d rather not have it ruined,” Zoë said primly. “I spent too much for that.”

“Then have him take it off slowly,” Matilde said with a dimpled grin. “Much more fun that way.”

Zoë could see that she wasn’t being given a choice in the matter. “Very well. I will entrust myself to your capable hands.”

Although, she wondered what she was getting herself into even as she said the words.

~~~~~

The first and second dates with Zoë had gone so well that Arnold was wondering when the other shoe was going to drop. His brother had been the ladies’ man, not him. He’d barely been able to get a girl to look at him twice, and now…

Now it seemed almost too good to be true, which was what had him worried.

He checked his watch for the fifth time and wondered what was keeping her. Zoë was always early—at least, she always had been in the past. Her door had been closed as he’d wandered past it a few minutes ago, however, and he’d heard feminine giggles. Some of the Slayers were probably chatting with her, and their duties obviously came first. He should just be grateful that they’d been able to steal a night away again.

And that Willow and Oz seemed happier staying in than going out.

“Rhoda’s with her,” Willow said as she came down the hall. “She’ll be out shortly.”

“Rhoda?” Arnold echoed. “Is something wrong?”

Willow smiled mysteriously. “No. Don’t worry so much.”

“Do I look alright?” he asked, pushing the words out in a rush. It might be their third date, but he was beginning to realize how much he liked her, and how much he wanted her to like him in return.

“You look great,” she said, the ring of truth in her voice. “Don’t worry, Arnold.”

He didn’t tell her that was almost all he did these days, whether it was over the Slayers or his budding relationship with Zoë. “Thank you.”

“There, you see?” Willow asked, glancing down the hall. “I don’t think you had anything to worry about.”

Zoë took his breath away. Her dress showed off curves that her everyday clothes tended to hide, and she’d done something with her makeup. Although he wasn’t sure what it was exactly, he knew that he liked it.

“You look marvelous,” he managed to stammer out, cursing himself silently for a fool.

Her smile was mysterious and pleased all at once. “Thank you. So do you.”

Arnold wanted to kiss her. He hadn’t yet, but he wasn’t sure that now was the right time, with Willow and several other pairs of curious eyes looking on. “Shall we go?”

He’d made reservations at a restaurant that Rute had recommended, and they shared tapas and compared notes on the Slayers. After a glass of wine, Arnold felt brave enough to brush his hand over hers, and was pleased when she slipped her hand into his as they walked back to the school.

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” Zoë began slowly.

“Anything,” he replied, wishing the evening would never end.

“I—”

Her words were cut off in a gasp, and Arnold fell to his knees as he felt white hot pain shoot through his side. He couldn’t catch his breath to reply as she called out his name, and he heard her shout of anger as his vision grayed out.

Clamping his left arm to his side, he fought for consciousness, not wanting to leave her at the mercy of whatever had attacked him.

As he blinked back tears, Arnold saw a knife clatter to the ground in front of him, and he reached for it, scrabbling for the handle. Zoë fell beside him, and he saw from her expression that she didn’t think that she was going to survive.

“No,” he whispered, and forced himself to his feet. The knife that Zoë had wielded was in his hand now, and the monster wasn’t looking at him. Throwing himself at the creature, all Arnold could do was hope for a lucky shot, and that his weight would be enough to drive the weapon home.

He didn’t have the strength to do anything else.


	25. New Council Headquarters, Bath, England

**“…I’m glad that Bertrand is turning out to be such an asset, particularly when both Xander and Corey are gone. Tell them both to contact me as soon as they are able. We have had more trouble, this time in Brazil, and I want to have up-to-date reports of our resources…” ~Excerpt from an email from Rupert Giles to Miles Bennett**

Giles woke slowly, the shaking insistent. “What?” he mumbled groggily.

“Talia had a Slayer dream.” It was Buffy’s voice, and he knew how serious the situation was by her tone. “I just got off the phone with Willow.”

He roused himself, fumbling for his glasses on the bedside table. “Start at the beginning,” he ordered. “I’m awake now.”

“Talia had a Slayer dream,” Buffy repeated patiently. “She described a couple of people, and I recognized one of them as Zoë, so I called Willow, who sent some of her Slayers out to find them. I guess she was out with Arnold.”

“How bad is it?” Giles asked. Glancing at the clock, he could see that it was the middle of the night, but it would still be relatively early in Rio.

“They’re alive,” Buffy replied. “They don’t know for how long.”

“Do they know what happened?”

“A demon, and whatever it was, it managed to get the jump on both of them.” Buffy sighed. “Willow said that they arrived in time to keep them from bleeding to death, but only time will tell for the rest of it.”

Giles’ mind was racing, considering the alternatives. “Buffy, I realize this is asking a lot, but—”

“You have enough teachers here,” Buffy said softly. “And Willow is going to need me. Not only does she have the Slayers to train, but she’s going to have a couple of invalids on her hands—assuming they survive.”

“Yes.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, no big deal,” she said, trying to muster a smile. “I’ve always wanted to see Brazil, and it’ll give me a chance to work on my tan.”

Giles knew his Slayer well enough to know that her use of shallow reasons to visit Brazil was how she made light of the gravity of the situation. Although it had once frustrated him, he appreciated it now. “When can you leave?” he asked gently.

“Whenever you get the tickets,” she replied. “It won’t take me long to pack. I’ve had plenty of practice.” Buffy crossed her arms in front of her chest, striving for a smile. “I should go rescue Spike from Talia. She was pretty shaken up by that dream, and he’s staying with her.”

Giles raised an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t that be the other way around, then?”

Buffy snorted. “She recovered after about thirty seconds in his presence. Talia’s probably trying to bat her eyelashes at him by now.”

After she left, he rose, changing out of his pajamas and into his street clothes. He would have preferred to go back to bed, but there was no way he’d be able to sleep now.

Giles was somehow not surprised to find Miriam waiting for him in his study. “Have you heard already?”

“My room is close to Talia’s,” she reminded him. “The commotion woke me up.”

“How is she?”

“Recovering quickly.” Miriam smiled. “The resilience of youth.”

“Indeed.”

“You’re sending Buffy?”

“I would really you rather not read my mind.”

“I ran into her in the hallway on the way here,” Miriam said, her expression amused. “She didn’t look happy, so I asked her what was going on.”

Giles sighed, pulling his glasses off and pinching the bridge of his nose. “There’s nothing else to be done.”

“No, but she’s worried that there will be a time when she leaves and doesn’t see Spike again.”

“Does she have reason to worry?” he asked.

Miriam was silent.

“I see.”

“I don’t believe that she needs to worry about not seeing him _again_.” Miriam’s tone was apologetic, and Giles understood what she meant. The emphasis was telling.

“How long?”

“I don’t know that.” Miriam’s expression was stern. “You cannot tell her.”

“Do you really think that Buffy won’t do her duty?” he demanded. “She has killed her lover to save the world in the past.”

“This is different,” Miriam replied. “Trust me, Rupert. If there were any other way—”

“I know.” He leaned his head back against the couch. “How is Harry?”

Miriam had taken the boy under her wing, and he seemed to be quite attached to her. “He’s doing well. I believe he’ll make a fine Watcher someday.”

“Is that what you’re thinking for his future?”

“Why not?” She smiled. “He is involved in this world now, Rupert. There is no changing that fact.”

“No, I suppose there isn’t.” Giles closed his eyes and felt her hand run through his hair. He relaxed into her touch, trying to remember how long it had been since he’d been this close to another person.

Too long. Far too long.

~~~~~

Buffy watched with some amusement as Spike shut the door firmly behind Talia. “Persistent bint,” he muttered in an undertone.

“She’s got a thing for you. I get that.”

“You’re no help,” he grumbled, collapsing on the bed next to her. “You’re leavin’ then?”

She sighed. “Willow is going to need some help.”

“I know. Knew that as soon as you called her an’ found out what had happened,” he replied. Spike’s blue eyes were rueful. “Bloody hell, I was just getting used to havin’ you around.”

“Same here.” Buffy tugged him down to lie next to her, wrapping arms and legs around him. “I’m sure it won’t be for that long.”

“I’m not,” he murmured. “We’re headin’ towards somethin’ big, luv. I can feel it.”

“So can I. I guess all those years in Sunnydale gave me a sixth sense for an apocalypse.”

He pulled her in closer, holding her tightly. “Guess we just have to hope we’ll face it together.”

“I’ll settle for ending it together.” Buffy buried her face in his shoulder. “Promise me that you won’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.”

“I could ask you for the same,” he shot back. “In fact, chances are I’m goin’ to be here, teachin’ the little ones. Don’t think you have to worry about me.”

“I can’t help it.”

“I guess it’s better than you not caring.”

“I always cared.” Buffy raised her head and grinned at him. “I hated you, I loved you, but I was never indifferent.”

His eyes darkened. “I love you.”

“I know.” Buffy traced the line of his jaw, ran a finger over his lips, searching his face. She wanted to memorize every line, every expression. There was a small part of her that knew that this was not going to be a short separation.

Their lovemaking was tinged with desperation, and Buffy found that she was afraid—afraid of what she might become without him in her life.

She didn’t say anything about it, however, not wanting to share her apprehension. If nothing happened—if she came back, and Spike was still in Bath—she didn’t want to cause unnecessary worry.

And if this was the last night they would have together for some time to come, she didn’t want to ruin it.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Spike whispered into her hair as they both lay there, sated.

She mustered a smile. “Yeah. I know.”

It wasn’t the first time she’d lied to him.

~~~~~

“Are you alright?”

Oliver’s precise British accent never failed to bring a smile to Dawn’s face. “I’m fine.”

“Because you don’t look it.” He maneuvered himself into the chair next to her with difficulty, leaning his crutches against the table with a grunt of pain. “Is it about your sister?”

Dawn hesitated for a moment. Although they weren’t dating—and there was no shortage of physical attraction, at least on her side—they had become good friends. They didn’t quite fit in with the other Watchers; Oliver, because he’d completed the training but had been sent home because of his accident, and she’d had no training.

No formal training anyway, Dawn thought. She’d probably seen more action than any of them ever would.

“Partly,” she admitted. “It was good to have Buffy around again, but I knew Zoë fairly well, too.”

“I’m sure she’ll be fine.” Oliver’s hand touched her shoulder in an awkward, tender gesture. “She’s a lot tougher than she looks.”

“You know her, too?”

“We’re related somehow,” he admitted. “But then, nearly every Watcher is related to the others at some point.”

Dawn’s nose wrinkled. “That’s kind of icky.”

His eyes twinkled. “Not really, but learning the family tree can be a bit of a chore.”

That brought a giggle from Dawn. “I guess.”

“It will be easier for Zoë,” Oliver said softly after a few minutes of companionable silence.

Dawn didn’t understand what or who he was referring to. “What will be easier?”

“Have you ever seen a crippled Watcher before?”

She realized that she hadn’t, but had never given it a thought. “It’s dangerous.” Dawn spoke hesitantly, knowing that they were touching on a sensitive subject. “I mean, it’s sort of life or death, right?”

“Most of the time,” he agreed. “But there are occasions when a person can survive, only to be incapable of doing the job they had been bred and raised to do.”

Dawn snorted. “Come on, Oliver. You’re just as good at research or anything else.”

He shook his head. “I’m average when it comes to that sort of thing. I was better with weapons.”

“What happened?” She asked the question gently, much as she would have asked Xander how he lost an eye, if she hadn’t already known.

He swallowed. “You’ve heard about the final test for Watchers?”

“The one that Giles got rid of?”

“That’s the one.” A smile touched his lips. “You’d have to have been at the Academy to understand how much everything has changed. I know that some people grumble about it, but it really is better now.”

“What happened at the test?”

He shook his head. “It wasn’t at the test. We went to face a vampire on our own.” Oliver sighed. “We wanted to be sure we knew what we were doing, that we could kill a vampire and look good doing it.”

“You never look good killing your first vampire,” Dawn said, remembering her own first attempt.

But Buffy had been there, telling her that missing the heart for the first time was normal, and not to worry about it. Granted, Buffy fully intended that her first attempt be her last, but Dawn understood. It might drive her nuts sometimes, but she got it.

“No, I guess you don’t,” he agreed. “We had a break from the Academy, and we agreed to go to London. One of the boys from my class claimed he knew where to find a vampire or two.”

“How many were there?”

“Three.” Oliver was quiet, his eyes very far away. “There were six of us, and maybe that should have been enough, but it wasn’t. Ernie was bitten badly; he lost enough blood to be in a coma for a week. The others were alright, though.”

“What happened to your leg?”

“We were in a bad area of London, where there are a lot of warehouses,” Oliver explained. “In the one we found the vampires in, there were bales. I still don’t know what was inside them. I managed to stake one on my second try, and a stack fell on me and crushed my leg. The doctors said that I was lucky, because I was close to losing it. Sometimes I wish that I had.”

Dawn swallowed. “Why?”

“It might have been better in the long run,” Oliver replied. “I’d have had a prosthetic, instead of a useless limb.”

“They probably thought it would heal better,” she said awkwardly, cursing herself silently even as the words left her mouth. That wasn’t going to make him feel better, she knew.

He shrugged. “That’s certainly what my father believed, and one of the reasons why he insisted the doctors try to save it. When it became clear that I’d never be whole, his hopes were dashed.”

Dawn frowned. “But why?”

“Because Watchers live or they die, but they certainly don’t become cripples.”

“That’s bullshit,” Dawn said fiercely. “Look at Xander! He lost an eye, and he’s doing just fine. You might be on crutches, but who knows? You might find the answer we need to save the world.”

A little of the melancholy left his face, and he smiled. “Thanks.”

Dawn snorted. “Don’t thank me for telling you the truth.” She hesitated. “What happened to them? Your parents, I mean.”

He shook his head. “They had a potential, and the Bringers went after them. They didn’t make it.”

“Oh.” Then, because she couldn’t think of any other way to express her solidarity and her sorrow, Dawn leaned over and hugged him.

And they simply embraced for the longest time.

~~~~~

Spike watched Buffy throw clothing into a suitcase. He could see by her quick movements and tense shoulders that she was not happy about this. “Relax, luv. It’s gonna be fine.”

“You have to promise me something,” Buffy said quietly, closing the suitcase and turning to face him.

“Anything.”

“You have to promise to be here when I get back.”

He closed his eyes, wishing that he hadn’t been so quick to agree. “We don’t know what’s goin’ to happen, pet.”

“I know, but if you promise, you’ll be here.” There was desperation in her voice, and fear, and it hurt him to hear it.

Spike rose from the bed and took her hands in his. “If it’s within my power to be here, I will be. If it’s within my power, I’ll be by your side ‘til the end of the world.”

“And beyond?”

“If there is one.” Spike pulled her close, feeling her arms latch behind him, and he stroked her hair. He had no idea why she was so afraid, so desperate. “Do you know somethin’ I don’t, Buffy?”

“I don’t know anything,” she replied, her voice muffled by his chest. “It’s just a feeling. It’s the same feeling I had before we went up against Glory, and the First.” She paused. “I feel like I’m going to lose.”

“You didn’t lose before.”

“In a way, I did.” Buffy pulled back to meet his eyes. “I love you.”

“I know you do.”

“I didn’t tell you that in time,” she continued. “I should have said it earlier. I should have said it as soon as I knew.”

“When did you know?” he asked, curious. They hadn’t talked about the specifics of her attraction. Spike thought that Buffy probably knew when it had happened for him.

She shook her head. “I don’t remember now. I guess—I knew for sure when you said you were going to leave, and I was _really_ sure when I thought that Wood had killed you.”

Spike wondered what he would have done if she had told him. Would he have still been able to go through with it? Would he have been able to allow the amulet to immolate him, knowing that what Buffy said to him was nothing but the truth?

“You told me when you could,” he finally said, not knowing the answer to that question, and knowing that it did no good to wonder. What was done was done. “Let’s just focus on now, Summers. An’ right now, you need to help Willow, an’ I need to train these Slayers.”

“Yeah.” But he could tell that he hadn’t convinced her, that she was still frightened. Spike wondered if it wasn’t her Slayer sense, telling her that something was coming—something that she wouldn’t be able to stop.

Her kiss was deep, bruising, and when she pulled away, she immediately reached for her suitcase. “See you soon?”

“Yeah.” Spike shoved his hands in his pockets and watched her leave the room.

She didn’t look back, but she didn’t have to. He knew that she was fighting tears.


	26. Pretoria, South Africa

**“…This must be a short message, I’m afraid. Xander tells me that the darkness is growing, and it seems a real push is being made to overcome the Oribi. Corey and Nàtali have not yet returned, and I haven’t heard from them. We’re growing concerned here…” ~Excerpt from an email from Miles Bennett to Rupert Giles**

Miles stood in the doorway of the school, looking out at the setting sun. Corey should have called yesterday, and the fact that she hadn’t worried him. She’d always been a very conscientious girl. As soon as Rupert had contacted him, wanting help and suggestions on who might be good to recruit, he’d thought of her.

He’d never say it out loud, but the girl would have been wasted as a Slayer. Their lives were too short, too brutal, and he knew that her parents had been more relieved than anything else when her eighteenth birthday passed without her being Chosen.

It had been harder on Corey, of course, but these sorts of things generally were.

“Miles?”

He turned to see Whit standing behind him. “What is it?”

“Have you heard from them yet?”

“No, I haven’t.” He mustered a smile. “I’m sure they’re fine.”

“Have you told Xander?”

Miles swallowed. He’d seen the way Corey’s eyes lit up when the young man walked into the room, and the way Xander seemed to stand taller when she was next to him. If anything happened to either of them… “No. There’s no point until we have more information.”

“What are we going to do if they don’t come back?” Whit asked.

Miles saw the look of apprehension on the boy’s face, and he understood it, but they couldn’t afford to give into fear. “We’ll soldier through, my boy. Why don’t you check on the girls? I’ll lock up out here.”

Once he had locked up, Miles followed his impulse and lit candles to place in the windows. Then, with a satisfied nod, he went to bed.

~~~~~

Corey awoke slowly, with no memory of where she was, or how she’d come to be there. The darkness around her was thick enough to choke on, and she drew in a gasping breath, trying not to panic. A thin hand came down over her mouth, and she heard, “Sshh.”

She took a deep breath, trying to remember what exactly had happened. She and Nàtali had been in Johannesburg, looking for the new Slayer. After discovering that she was an orphan, and living on the streets, they had come close to catching up with her a couple of times, only to—

Only to what? Her memory stopped there, and she felt a chill.

The distinctive sound of a match being struck filled her ears, and she saw the quick flare, then the steady flame of a candle. The face on the other side of the light was definitely not human.

“Who—who are you?” she whispered.

“A friend.” The voice was female—she thought. “I helped when I saw that it had taken your little one.”

“My—” Corey looked around frantically. “Nàtali?”

The demon shook its—her?—head. “I was not in time. They took her.”

“I have to get to her,” Corey said, trying to scramble to her feet, and sinking back onto the makeshift bed almost as quickly.

The demon patted her cheek. “I know. They took my little ones, too.”

“Who are ‘they’?” Corey asked, feeling tears of frustration and anger welling up, and fighting them back impatiently.

The demon shook her head. “They welcome the darkness. You should rest now.”

“I have to contact my friends,” Corey insisted. “Please. They can help Nàtali, maybe even your children.”

The demon stared at her suspiciously. “Why?”

“Why would you help me?”

After a moment, the demon inclined her head in a gesture of respect. “I will try.”

“That’s all I ask.” She took a breath. “My name is Corey.”

“Brinda.” The yellow skin on her face and hands seemed almost to glow in the candlelight. “I will see what I can do. I will leave the light for you.”

She was gone momentarily, leaving Corey to look around the dank chamber with its low ceiling and dirt floor. Sitting up experimentally, Corey wondered whether Xander even knew she was missing yet.

Taking another deep breath, Corey closed her eyes, focusing on her breathing, on the need to be calm. She would find Nàtali and get word to Xander and Miles.

There was no other choice.

~~~~~

Xander held on to the door of the Land Rover as they bounced into the Oribi village. Kei had gained permission from the elders to bring him and Emily in, although he couldn’t help but wonder what that meant.

If the elders so rarely allowed strangers to see where they lived, then what dire straits were they in now? And what could they possibly hope to do about it?

He winced as one of the bumps jarred still-healing ribs and reminded himself that this was a reconnaissance mission only. Xander knew that anything else could result in more permanent impairment.

And he was already impaired enough.

Kei glanced over at him. “There is something you must know before we enter.”

“What’s that?” Xander asked, wincing again.

“There are many who do not believe you can or will help us.”

“I don’t know about ‘can,’” Xander said candidly, “but I can do ‘will.’”

A smile touched the Oribi’s solemn face. “That will have to be enough.”

Emily leaned forward from the backseat. “Why wouldn’t they believe that we would help? I mean, if bad stuff is going to happen to you, it’s probably going to happen to everybody.”

“I think that you say, ‘every man for himself?’” Kei queried.

Xander sighed, knowing the truth of that statement. He’d lived in Sunnydale most of his life, after all, where not getting involved was the main method of survival. “When things go bad, most people have the tendency to pretend that if they don’t get involved, it won’t effect them. That’s kind of the point of the Slayer—getting involved when no one else will.”

“Didn’t you get involved?” Emily asked innocently. “I mean, that’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

He smiled, remembering the first time he’d seen Buffy. Maybe he had helped for all the wrong reasons, wanting to impress her so that she’d see him as something more than a friend, but his motives for continuing the fight had been pure.

Mostly.

“Pretty much,” he said, deciding that the entire story was too complicated, although he might end up telling her someday. “In this case, however, I think that Kei may also be referring to the fact that humans and demons don’t mix, and they don’t help each other out.”

Kei nodded in confirmation. “No, but we helped you so that you would do the same for us, and now you are. That will do much for the doubters.”

The Oribi pulled to a stop outside a house that was oddly low to the ground. If they hadn’t been so close, Xander probably would have mistaken it for a hill. Glancing around, he could see other “hills” close by, and he shook his head. “Pretty smart.”

Kei smiled. “Yes. We like to remain inconspicuous.”

“Very cool,” Emily breathed, getting out of the Land Rover, before Xander could tell her to wait.

He had no idea what sort of reception they were facing, and while he trusted Kei, he also didn’t want Emily wandering off on her own. Xander was just getting out of the vehicle, ready to call her back, when the front of the house seemed to disappear and a young Oribi came out.

Kei called out in a language that Xander couldn’t understand, and didn’t think he’d ever heard before, and the boy stopped, looking at them. “My son,” Kei explained. “He does not speak English.”

The young demon said something else, then immediately ran back to the entrance, glancing over his shoulder quickly before the hill appeared to swallow him up.

“He tells me that they are waiting for us,” Kei said. “We should go.”

Xander squared his shoulders and followed his friend, hoping that they could do some good.

~~~~~

The ringing of the phone woke Whit out of a fitful sleep. He’d become quite attached to Corey and Xander and the Slayers while in Pretoria, and the idea that they had lost anyone caused a lot of fear. He’d lost too many people he loved to rest easy as long as there was any doubt that they would return.

He fumbled for the receiver, finally grabbing it and holding it between his ear and shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Whit?”

“Corey!” Relief rushed through him. “Where are you? Are you alright?”

“I’m in Johannesburg,” she replied, “and I don’t know. Nàtali’s been taken.”

“What?” Whit sat up a little straighter. “By who?”

“I don’t know. Maybe by the same demons who are harassing the Oribi, but it’s hard to say. As best as I can tell, they’re kidnapping children for some kind of sacrifice to open the Hellmouth.”

“Shit.” Whit thought quickly. “Do you know—never mind. Of course you don’t know what kind of demons they are. Let me do some research. There aren’t that many rituals for opening a Hellmouth that call for child sacrifice, and Miles might know who would be making a power play like that in the area.”

He could hear her sigh of relief. “Thanks, Whit. You and Miles be careful. Grabbing Nat might have been random, but I don’t like trusting coincidence.”

“That probably isn’t a good idea under the circumstances,” he agreed. “When should I call you?”

“I’ll call you,” Corey said. “I don’t have ready access to a phone, so there’s no way you can get in touch with me, I’m afraid.”

“Be careful.”

“You, too. Give my love to Xander when he calls.”

The line went dead, and Whit hung up the phone, wearily running a hand through his tousled hair. The clock indicated that it was just after 2 am, but there was no way he was getting back to sleep now.

Rolling out of bed, he pulled on a shirt and padded down the hall to the study. Miles was seated at the desk, a large book open in front of him. “Was that Xander?” he asked, not looking up.

“It was Corey. Somebody took Nat.”

Miles’ head shot up, and he removed his reading glasses, giving Whit an intense stare. “What exactly did she say?”

Whit repeated the conversation word for word, then asked, “What are we going to do?”

Miles closed his eyes, leaning back in his seat. A silent minute or two passed before he said, “We’re going to allow her to do her job. There isn’t much else we _can_ do, I’m afraid.”

“What about Xander?”

“We’ll tell him exactly what she told us to.” Miles sighed. “He is in a very delicate position, Whit. He has a responsibility to our allies, and knowing about Corey and Nàtali might result in an inability to carry out those responsibilities.”

Whit shook his head. “But this is Corey! She’s one of us, and Nat’s our Slayer. The Oribi are demons.”

“Yes, they are,” Miles replied softly. “But we have given our word, my boy, and Corey knows the risks.”

“And Nàtali?” Whit asked as his stomach twisted, thinking of the laughing, happy girl.

Miles’ eyes were haunted. “She’s a Slayer. They are born to fight and die, so that the world might go on.”

As much as he hated that answer, Whit knew that Miles was right.

~~~~~

Thunder boomed as the man Kei had pointed out as the head elder rose to speak. Xander really hoped that this wasn’t some sort of sign. “Kei has told you that there is a force gathering on our borders.”

Xander nodded. “He has.”

“Our scouts tell us these demons are preparing for war, and that they have taken the sacrifices necessary to open the Hellmouth.”

He swallowed. “What kind of sacrifices?”

“Human and demon. It requires the blood of children.”

Xander felt like he was going to be sick. “We have to stop them.”

The elder smiled, and Xander could feel some of the tension leave the room. “Yes, but how? We are very much outnumbered, even with the addition of you and your people.”

“Do you know how many?”

“Perhaps one hundred?”

“And how many can you put in the field?”

The head elder glanced at Kei, who responded, “Perhaps twenty-five. We are small.”

Xander quickly did the math in his head, and he didn’t much like it. Then again, they had defeated the Mayor and his goons with little more than a few dozen kids who had never held a weapon before, and a big bomb. “We’re going to need more Slayers,” he decided. “How long do you think we have?”

“One week, perhaps two,” the head elder responded. “Is it enough time?”

Xander nodded. “It’ll have to be. I need to contact my boss and find out how many more Slayers we can get down here. We might be able to get a few witches from the coven, too, and maybe some more Watchers.”

The head elder gave him a little bow. “Shall I allow Kei to continue as our liaison?”

“That would be great.” Xander glanced over at Emily, who had been by his side, silent, the entire time. He could see both fear and determination on her face, and he thought that Buffy would probably understand how she felt at this moment.

Leaning down to whisper in her ear, he said, “The first apocalypse is always the hardest, kid.”

She looked up at him, startled, and some of the tension left her frame.

The meeting appeared to be breaking up, because all the Oribi except for Kei were leaving. “How many do you think you will be able to get?” Kei asked.

“I don’t know,” Xander admitted. “Most of the Slayers are pretty young, but this is their fight. If things go sour here, we’ll have that much more trouble down the road.”

Kei inclined his head. “Indeed. I will take you back to the school.”

“Stick around,” Xander invited. “I might be able to get you an answer sooner that way.”

The Oribi seemed to hesitate, but then nodded. “Yes, of course.”

Xander could only pray that they would have the help they needed. He had no idea what things were like for Giles in Bath, but surely there would be a few Slayers around who could be trusted to know the right end of a weapon.


	27. New Council Headquarters, Bath, England

**“…With the ring that the coven gave me, it wasn’t a tough choice, considering what Xander’s facing. Plus, Miriam told Giles that it was probably a good idea for me to go. This is supposed to go down pretty soon, though, so I’ll likely make it back to Bath before you do…” ~Excerpt from an email from Spike to Buffy Summers**

“Have you decided who’s goin’ with me?” Spike asked.

Giles shook his head. “Vi and Audra, certainly. Both are experienced and capable, and I think that you’ll need that. Would you recommend anyone else?”

Spike had hoped that the head Watcher would make the decision; if he made a choice, and the girl got hurt—well, it would be his fault, wouldn’t it?

Never mind that Buffy would tell him that it wasn’t, and that as Slayers, that was simply part of the job. It was _his_ duty to keep them alive, and throwing them at an apocalypse was a poor way to go about it.

Closing his eyes, he pictured the girls, making a mental list of strengths and weaknesses for each. If he could choose a good team, one that would work together seamlessly, he wouldn’t have to take as many.

“Jess, Hailey, Kayla,” Spike said. “An’ maybe one more, but I’m not sure who.”

“Take a Watcher,” Giles suggested. “Several of the younger ones could use the field experience before being stationed in a particular location.”

Spike’s eyes narrowed. “Dunno. I’d say that the best person for the job would be Dawn, but I know that Buffy’d have my hide.”

A smile touched his lips. “I would say that you are correct. Unfortunately, I don’t think that I—or we—can do without her here just yet. She is too valuable to risk.”

Spike knew what he was talking about. In spite of Dawn’s lack of traditional Watcher training, her time on the Hellmouth made her worth three of the younger ones who had gone through the Academy. The new Council would take an enormous hit if it lost her, and not just on a personal level.

“Besides, Nora seems to have taken to her.” Spike sighed. “Which is another thing. She an’ Harry aren’t gonna be happy about this.”

“Miriam is here,” Giles reminded him. “Harry’s quite attached to her, and Nora will be fine. Besides, she seems quite attached to both Talia and Dawn, and they are staying.”

Spike nodded, but he still wasn’t happy, feeling a little bit as though he was abandoning the girl and her brother. Nora generally shadowed him, a determined expression on her face, as though trying to learn everything she could about how to kill the monsters.

“Rose’ll help,” Spike finally said. “They’re of an age, an’ she knows a bit of what Nora’s gone through.”

Giles flipped through a notebook. “Very well. You’ll take Vi and Audra, and the three others. I also think you should take Rory. I don’t think that I’ve managed to convince him that not all demons are evil, and working closely with a group might help dislodge some of those prejudices.”

Spike raised an eyebrow. “An’ what about the fact that the boy doesn’t trust me?”

The head Watcher smiled, the expression an aged echo of the young man he’d once been. “You’ll be in charge, and he will ‘get over it,’ as Dawn might say.”

~~~~~

Dawn somehow wasn’t terribly surprised when she learned that she wouldn’t be going to Africa, although she appreciated Spike coming to tell her himself. “Which Watcher did Giles choose?” she asked with a sigh of resignation.

“Rory. Said it would do him good to work with a vampire an’ a bunch of demons.” Spike sprawled in the chair, while Dawn sat cross-legged on the bed across from him. His left hand was tapping out a rhythm on his leg, and she knew that he wanted to be on his way.

He had been surprisingly content here in Bath, training young Slayers, but Dawn knew that Spike was never happier than when in the midst of a good fight, and Xander’s request for extra firepower certainly promised one.

“I requested you,” Spike said abruptly into the silence, interrupting her thoughts. “Giles said you’re pretty much the least expendable one we’ve got.”

“He just said that because I’m the one who answers his emails and sends his texts.”

“He said it because it’s true, pet.” Spike’s voice was gentle. “Rupert is right. We can’t do without you. You’ve seen too much, an’ you know too much.”

Dawn stared at him in wonder. “I’m just Buffy’s kid sister.”

“No, luv, you’re essential. There’s nothin’ ‘just’ about you.” Spike rose from his seat. “I know I’ve screwed up in the past, pet, but I know that much.”

She swallowed hard. “Why are you telling me this? You’re talking like you’re not coming back.”

“You never know, do you?” The question was rhetorical, and Dawn understood what he meant. “Thought I’d say it now, that’s all.”

That wasn’t all. Spike had died at the last apocalypse, and she’d been there for Miriam’s prophecy. “I’ll look in on Nora,” Dawn promised. “I think she likes me.”

“Don’t know anybody who doesn’t.”

With that sort of goodbye, Dawn wasn’t willing to let him go without a proper sendoff. Her hug took him by surprise for a moment, but then his arms came around her. “See you soon,” she promised.

“Yeah. See you, pet.”

Spike left, and Dawn sighed, feeling bereft. Buffy was in Brazil, Spike was going to Africa, and so were Vi and Audra.

“Dawn?” Oliver leaned on his crutches in the doorway, watching her with a sympathetic expression on his face. “Are you alright?”

“I don’t know.”

“Can I come in?” She nodded, and he swung himself inside, nudging the door closed with one of the crutches. “Do you wish you were going?”

Dawn could say to Oliver what she hadn’t been able to say to Spike, in a desire to appear mature and able to handle disappointment. “Rory is an ass, and he’s going to be insufferable for getting chosen.”

“Spike will beat it out of him.” Oliver had a smile on his face, showing that he wasn’t entirely serious. “Truly, Dawn, you would be the better choice, but I can’t be sorry that you’re not going.”

She smiled. “I can’t say I wouldn’t miss you if I went.”

“You’re—” Oliver stopped. “Never mind. Are you hungry? I heard a rumor about an ice cream parlor nearby.”

“It’s not a rumor.” She glanced at the clock. It was growing late, but not too late for the shop to be open. “Let’s go. I could use something sweet.”

~~~~~

Giles had no idea if he’d made the right decision. He was fairly certain that when Buffy found out he’d sent Spike to Africa, she wouldn’t be terribly happy with him. Of course, there was every chance that the vampire would return before she did, as this battle was likely to occur soon, and it didn’t appear that Buffy would be able to return for at least another couple of weeks.

Zoë and Arnold were both too badly injured for her to leave soon. There was still some question as to whether or not Zoë was going to survive, although the doctors had hope. And Giles felt as though hope was in dangerously short supply these days.

“Rupert? Are you hungry?”

He looked up to see Miriam standing in the doorway, Harry hanging onto her hand. “I’m sorry?”

“Are you hungry? Harry says that he’d like fish and chips.”

Giles’ eyebrows went up. Miriam had told him earlier that Harry was having trouble eating, and that at this point she would let him choose anything he wanted—within reason. Apparently, that meant fish and chips tonight.

“I’m not—”

“You haven’t eaten yet.” There was steel in Miriam’s voice, which told Giles that she wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

Giles smiled. “Now that you mention it, I am feeling a little peckish.”

“Good. Perhaps your sister would like to go as well,” Miriam suggested to Harry. “Why don’t you see if you can find her?”

The boy ran off, and Giles looked at Miriam. “Not terribly subtle.”

“I wasn’t trying to be.” She sat down across from him, looking over his desk. “You can’t blame yourself, Rupert.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Buffy had to go to Brazil, and Spike had to go to Africa. There was no other choice.”

“There is always another choice, but there might not be a better one.” Giles sighed. “I dislike second guessing myself.”

“Then don’t,” Miriam replied simply. “You will make the best decision you can with the information available to you.”

Giles managed to smile. “I appreciate the vote of confidence, although I still don’t see why you want me to accompany you.”

“They’re children who have lost both of their parents, and you happen to be the head Watcher, which means it would behoove you to get to know them better.” Miriam fixed him with a stern look. “You are responsible for them.”

He wasn’t precisely convinced. “I’m not good with children.”

“You have no experience with children,” she corrected him. “There’s a difference.”

Giles let out an exasperated sigh. “You’re not letting me off the hook, are you?”

“No,” Miriam said simply.

He shrugged, a gesture that indicated more about his inability to argue with her than his lack of caring. Giles wasn’t sure that there was anything else that he’d be less excited about doing.

“Talia wants to come, too,” Nora announced as she entered the office, the other Slayer and Harry in tow. “Is that alright?”

Giles briefly closed his eyes. It sounded like it just got worse.

~~~~~

Vi tipped her head back against the seat and found it just as uncomfortable a position as tucking her chin to her chest as Spike had done. “Crap.”

“I don’t care if your head winds up on my shoulder.” One blue eye cracked open. “If you really want to sleep.”

She stretched. “Not really, but I can’t sleep on airplanes.”

“And who knows how much time we’ll have to sleep once we get there?” Audra chimed in from Spike’s other side.

The other three Slayers were in a small knot a short distance away, obviously giving Rory a hard time. Vi watched with a clinical eye; they were excited and giddy, happy to have the chance to put their training to use. Rory was puffed up like a little bird, surrounded as he was by the Slayers, convinced that he was the best person for the job.

“He’ll figure it out soon enough,” Spike said darkly, watching the boy. “They all will.” He glanced up at the board that announced flights. Theirs was supposedly leaving in another half an hour, and he rose. “I should call Buffy. She’ll want to know.”

Spike didn’t specify what Buffy would want to know, but Vi had a sneaking suspicion that his desire to call had a lot more to do with wanting to take the opportunity now, before it was lost.

“I wonder how much those two cost the Council in phone calls?” she wondered aloud.

Audra smiled. “Plenty, I’m sure, but less than you’d think.”

Vi moved to the next chair over, eliminating the space between them. “Probably. I have to say, it’s kind of nice to have our suspicions confirmed.”

“What suspicions?”

“Back in Sunnydale, they were dancing around each other. Buffy kept saying that they were just good friends, but I think there was more to it than that.”

“What was it like?”

Vi frowned. “What was what like?”

“The apocalypse.”

Vi realized belatedly that although she and Audra were widely regarded as the two most experienced Slayers in Bath—other than Buffy—and were often given the corresponding authority, Audra hadn’t been in a true end-of-the-world battle. “You weren’t there at the end.”

“No. After my Watcher and his wife were killed, I tried to get to Sunnydale, because that’s where he wanted me to go, but…”

It was something she hadn’t talked about before, at least not to Vi, but her words painted a bleak picture. There was nothing to say, however, and so she tried to answer Audra’s question.

“I guess the waiting was the worst, and that was before Willow did the spell, so it was almost like you were choking on your fear all the time.” Vi remembered the feel of it now, how it sat in her stomach, in her chest, so that you had to fight it every single time you went outside the house after dark. “We were potentials, but that’s nothing like being a Slayer.”

“No, it’s not,” Audra agreed. “You can’t know what it’s like until you are one.”

“The battle was huge. There was so much going on all at once, and people were getting hurt and killed everywhere. We were waiting for Willow to do the spell, and trying to fight.” Vi remembered the early part of the fight down in the Hellmouth as a large blur, scrabbling to stay alive, to prevent the uber-vamps from killing her or the others.

But mostly her. None of them had the capacity to worry about the others, except for Buffy and Faith.

“And then I felt it, and everything changed.” Vi looked over at her. “I don’t think we were down there for much longer than that. Spike started glowing, and the cave started to shake. We beat it out of there, and Buffy just barely made it out in time.”

“I wish I felt ready.” Audra offered a rueful smile. “But I guess you never do.”

“Not after you know what’s really at stake.” Vi looked at the other Slayers and Rory. In a way, they still had their innocence; they had no idea what could—and likely would—happen in the next week. She’d lost friends in the Hellmouth; she and Audra both knew exactly how bad it could get.

Vi wasn’t stupid; it was going to get bad.


	28. Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

**“…The doctors are finally answering our questions when we ask about Zoë, so it looks like she’s going to pull through. Arnold is doing a lot better. He’s still moving pretty stiffly, but he’s insisting on helping out with training the girls. As badly hurt as they are, though, it’s going to be another couple of weeks before I can leave. Be careful, Spike. And try not to annoy Xander too much, okay?” ~Excerpt from an email from Buffy Summers to Spike**

Willow entered Zoë’s room after a brief knock on the door. “How are you feeling?”

The other woman was silent for a moment before finally responding. “Fine. Really. It will be good to get out of here.”

“I’m sure it will.” She sat down next to the bed. “The doctors told me that you’re healing really well.” Willow meant it as an encouragement, but Zoë’s fragile control over her emotions broke, and she turned her face away again. “Oh, Zoë.”

“Don’t,” she choked out. “Just—don’t.”

“Arnold said that you won’t let him see you.”

“How can I?” Zoë faced Willow again, struggling to sit up in bed. “Look at me!”

The bright red scar that ran down the side of her neck and under her hospital gown was all too visible against Zoë’s pale skin. The demon’s claws had sliced her open from neck to navel, and the subsequent fall had resulted in torn tendons in her shoulder and elbow. The doctors weren’t terribly optimistic about her getting mobility back in her right arm any time soon.

“You’re lucky,” Willow said gently. “You almost didn’t survive.”

“Maybe it would have been better if I hadn’t.”

Willow could understand why the other woman would feel that way, but they didn’t have time for despondency. It sucked, but that was the truth. “We need every Watcher we have, and that includes you. You don’t have time for self-pity.”

Zoë stared at her, an expression of betrayal on her face. “That isn’t fair, Willow.”

“No, it’s not,” she agreed. “But that’s life for you, and life pretty much sucks. So, are you ready to leave?”

Zoë was silent for a moment, her lips compressed tightly. “Yes.”

“Good.” Willow summoned a smile. “Arnold is waiting for us outside.” She marched out, seeing the other Watcher in the hallway.

“How is she?” Arnold asked anxiously.

“She’s pissed off,” Willow replied honestly. “And she’s feeling pretty useless.”

Arnold frowned. “Do you think she’ll talk to me?”

“She’s not upset with you,” Willow said quickly, “more at the circumstances.”

“Is that why she won’t talk to me?”

“She was pretty badly injured. It’s going to leave a scar.”

Arnold was clearly incredulous. “She can’t think I care about that!”

Willow just smiled. “Arnold, she’s a girl, which means that she can think exactly that. It’s just fear, but I’ll tell you what you can do about it.”

~~~~~

Zoë cursed as she tried to button her shirt one-handed. Although she wouldn’t have been able to pull a shirt on over her head, she seemed to be having a great deal of trouble working the buttons as well.

“Fuck,” she muttered as tears sprang to her eyes. The last thing she wanted was to be a burden, but that seemed to be exactly what she’d become.

“Zoë?” Arnold’s gentle voice broke through her self-recriminations. “May I help?”

“I’ve got it,” she replied, trying to keep the sound of tears out of her voice, knowing that she was unsuccessful.

“Zoë.” His hands came down over hers, but she focused on the cane he’d left leaning against her bed. “Let me.”

Nimble fingers worked the buttons through their corresponding holes, brushing against bare skin a couple of times. “Why wouldn’t you let me in?”

She brought one hand up to cover his. “I was worried you wouldn’t—”

Arnold ran a finger along the skin next to her wound. “Haven’t you heard that scars are sexy?”

“And useless arms?”

“A badge of courage,” Arnold assured her. “It won’t always be useless.”

“You haven’t heard the doctors.”

“What do they know about you or Watchers? We’re tougher than they know. We have to survive everything—apocalypses, the deaths of Slayers, the loneliness. You don’t have to be lonely, Zoë, not when I’m right here.”

She smiled through her tears. “I didn’t know you were a poet.”

“I’m not. I’ve just had a very long time to think of what I wanted to say to convince you to give me a second chance,” Arnold replied.

“Oh.” She buried her face in his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He stroked her hair. “I believe I’m falling in love with you, Zoë Michelson.”

“Then that makes two of us.” Her voice trembled, and she knew that she didn’t sound all that certain, but in this case her voice did not echo her feelings. The truth was that the fear that he would not want her had completely overwhelmed her ability to think.

And now she was overwhelmed by another feeling entirely as relief swamped her.

“Let’s go home, love.” Arnold placed a kiss on her forehead. “Your Slayers are waiting for you.”

~~~~~

Buffy knew that she should be working with the younger Slayers, or helping to clean up, or any number of things that needed to be finished eventually.

Eventually—there was time. Too much of it, really, although Buffy knew that even if she was free to return to Bath tomorrow, Spike would not be waiting for her.

“Did you hear from him?”

She looked over at Willow standing in the doorway. “He said that things aren’t looking very good. There are too many demons on the other side, and not enough on theirs.”

Her friend took the seat next to her. “You know Spike, Buffy. King of the losing side. If anyone can pull this thing off, it’s him—and Xander.”

Buffy took a deep breath. “Right. You’re right. He’d be really pissed off at me for moping.”

“I’ll bet he misses you just as much.”

“I get the feeling that he’s better at it than I am,” Buffy replied.

Willow leaned forward in her chair. “I don’t think I understand.”

“He never really had me. I was always keeping him at arm’s length, so he’s used to it, to not being with me.”

“If you always kept him at arm’s length, isn’t that true of you, too?” Willow asked with impeccable logic.

Buffy shook her head. She’d been thinking about this a lot since coming to Brazil; the pain of missing Spike had been a cold, hard stone in her gut, even though she knew he was alive and well, albeit on the other side of the world. “I always knew he’d be there.”

Willow pulled her into a hug. “What are you really worried about, Buffy?”

“That one of these missions, he won’t come back.” Buffy took a deep breath. “Still, it’s good to be here. I’ve missed you.”

“Me, too.” Willow pulled her to her feet. “Zoë’s back. She seems to be doing better.”

“Did she finally talk to Arnold?”

The redhead nodded. “They’re so cute, it’s disgusting.”

A smile curved Buffy’s lips. “I have to admit I love a happy ending.”

Willow hesitated. “I need to ask you for a favor, though.”

“You want me to stay.”

“Only for a while,” Willow assured her. “It’s just that I don’t know much about training Slayers, and Giles just informed us that there’s another one in the area. I’m sending Rhoda and one of the others, but until Zoë and Arnold are up to traveling, or training—”

“You need me.” Buffy took a deep breath, trying to ignore the flare of panic, the certainty that the longer she stayed here, the less chance there was of seeing Spike again.

That was stupid. He would be the first to tell her that she couldn’t know the future, that there was every chance that they would both pull through—or that she would be the one killed. It had happened twice before, after all.

“How long are you thinking?” she asked with a forced smile.

Willow shook her head. “It depends on Zoë’s recovery, since she’s usually the one who retrieves the Slayers we locate.”

Buffy nodded. “I’m here for the long haul, then.”

And as good as it was to be with her friend again, Buffy couldn’t help but wish to be in Africa.

~~~~~

Oz hadn’t been sure what he was going to do in Brazil, other than whatever Willow asked him to. Then again, that’s pretty much what he’d been doing in Sunnydale, too, although he’d had a band. He had been ready to have a purpose again, though, ready to do something other than drift.

It turned out that there was plenty to do, however. Someone had to run errands, round up Slayers, make sure that they reached their destinations safely, and a dozen other small tasks that the Watchers shared between them.

Oddly enough, Oz included himself in that appellation. He’d somehow become a Watcher; it wasn’t something he’d planned.

“Oz? Would you mind going out with Buffy tonight?” Willow asked. “I think I’m going to stick around here.”

“Is there something going on?”

“Not really. I just wanted a chance to catch up on some emails.”

He rose from his position on the floor. One of the Slayers had found a mouse earlier, and he’d been trying to close up all the holes where they might be getting in. It had rather amused him that the same Slayer could face vampires and demons without fear, but a mouse caused her to shriek and run for the nearest chair.

Of course, then Buffy had sworn him to secrecy.

“How long is Buffy staying?”

Willow glanced out the door to check to see if the coast was clear, then closed it. “I don’t know, but I’ve asked her to stay a little longer.”

“Is this about what Miriam asked you to do?”

She nodded. “I have no idea how I’m supposed to take care of that if Buffy isn’t here.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t worry about it,” Oz suggested. “You have no idea when it’s supposed to happen.”

“Don’t remind me,” Willow groaned.

Oz pulled her into a hug, knowing that it was about the only way to stop her from worrying herself to death.

“We do need her, though,” Willow continued. “Zoë and Arnold aren’t ready for travel yet, and there’s no way they can do any training right now. I mean, Arnold is trying, but I’m afraid that he’s going to tear his stitches, and—”

Clearly, a simple hug was not going to do it. Oz stopped her mouth with a kiss, deepening it when she responded. He didn’t want to go out with the Slayers later; he had no desire to let her go.

“You worry too much,” he murmured when they finally broke off the kiss.

“I know.” She leaned her forehead on his. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

A brief knock on the door was immediately followed by Rhoda poking her head in. “We’re off. Oz, are you coming?”

“I’ll be right there,” he promised. Looking at Willow, he murmured, “We’ll have to finish this later.”

“I’ll be waiting for you.”

It was the only promise he needed from her.

~~~~~

Buffy saw the demon coming at Oz from the alley, and she called out a warning. She had no idea where he’d learned to fight, but he moved quickly, dropping to one knee and sending a crossbow bolt into its throat.

“Thanks,” he called over his shoulder.

“No problem.”

“Buffy!” Rute’s voice held a note of panic, and Buffy started running, Oz on her heels.

They had split up into two teams to cover more ground; there had been reports of attacks in two separate locations in the city, and it had seemed necessary. Xander had said that things in Africa were getting worse, but the same was definitely true here, too.

Rute, Matilde, and Linda were facing several vampires and a couple of demons, all advancing on them menacingly.

“Shit.” Buffy knew that there was no way that the five of them could handle that many enemies. “Rute! Get back!” She looked at Oz. “What do you think?”

“I can get two from here,” Oz replied evenly, raising his crossbow.

She thought for a moment, deciding that although the odds weren’t great, it was better than running. “Go low!”

The three girls obeyed her immediately, dropping and rolling to either side. Oz fired two bolts in quick succession, and two of the vampires crumbled to dust. Buffy sprang forward, staking one vampire immediately, seeing that Rute managed to get another out of the corner of her eye.

“Slayer,” one of the demons growled. “We heard you were here.”

“There’s more than one of us now.”

“But we want you.” His toothy grin was meant to frighten her, but Buffy didn’t scare easily.

Buffy glanced at Matilde. “Hand me your sword.”

The other girl hesitated only for a moment before doing so, then backing off to stand closer to Oz. The three demons were intent on Buffy, and the vampires were dust in the wind. She’d faced worse odds before, and the idea of a battle like this made her blood sing.

The only thing that would have made it better was to have had Spike at her side.

“What are you waiting for?” she asked them. “Bring it on.”

~~~~~

Arnold had been certain that Zoë’s refusal to see him meant that she hadn’t forgiven him for being unable to protect her—although he knew quite well that she wouldn’t appreciate the idea that she needed protecting. Still, he felt as though he’d let her down. He should have been more alert, reacted faster. He had been injured badly, but Zoë had borne the brunt of it.

She was certainly dealing with more consequences now.

“How is it?” he asked anxiously as she picked at her dinner. Zoë had been asleep while everyone else was eating, the trip from the hospital having worn her out. Arnold had been the one to cook, wanting to do whatever he could to pull his weight while unable to do field work.

Rhoda kept assuring him that no one minded, that they were all just happy that he and Zoë had survived, but he disliked feeling useless.

“It’s quite good,” she assured him. “Much better than the hospital food. It’s just that I’m not very hungry.”

He nodded. “I understand, but you do need to eat.”

“I know.”

Arnold watched her shove food around on her plate, and for the first time noticed the awkward way that she was holding her fork. Cursing himself for an idiot, he reached out and covered her hand with his own. “Do you want me to leave?”

Sometimes it was easier, he knew, to be weak when no one else was around. Zoë was unlikely to get much privacy at the school, but he would do whatever he could to ease her way.

“No.” She tried for a smile. “I don’t particularly care for dropping food down my front, however, and I’ve never been good at using my left hand.”

“It will take time to learn, but I have no doubt that you will,” he assured her.

Arnold might have tried to say more, but he heard the banging of the front door, and Rhoda’s voice calling to him. “Emrys!”

He rose, grabbing the cane that he still needed, and heading quickly for the front room. “What’s wrong?”

“Gracia’s been hurt.” Rhoda’s face was pale, and there was blood and dirt both on her cheek and neck. “It’s bad.”

He looked past her to see Teresa and Ximena supporting the injured Slayer, and he directed them to lay her on the couch. “Rhoda, get my kit. You know where it is.”

Arnold lowered himself to the floor slowly, kneeling with some effort. Gracia lay as still as death, and he felt his stomach clench as he saw the stain on her shirt and the wound in her neck. “What happened?” he asked in Portuguese.

“We do not know,” Teresa admitted. “We were split up. There were too many of them, and when we found her…” She trailed off, then crossed herself.

Arnold understood the impulse, and he saw Zoë’s good hand come down to check the girl’s pulse. “She’s gone,” she murmured.

Rhoda ran back into the room, first aid kit in hand. “I knocked on Willow’s door,” she announced, “but she wasn’t there.”

“That’s because I was outside in the garden,” Willow said as she entered the room. “How bad is it?”

Arnold was the one to reply, with a lie to soothe the Slayers still in the room. “I don’t know yet. It’s hard to say. Zoë, would you check the other girls?”

Her eyes met his, and she nodded, knowing exactly what he was doing. “Of course. Come, girls.”

Zoë managed to usher them out of the room, speaking reassuring words in the gently authoritative tone that she’d mastered.

“She’s gone, isn’t she?” Willow asked softly.

Arnold nodded. “Rhoda did the right thing by bringing her back here. This isn’t the first friend she’s seen drained, and we’ll need to take steps.”

“But wouldn’t it be obvious if she was turned?”

“You would think so, wouldn’t you?” Arnold asked. “Unfortunately, no. I’ve seen this before. We can’t afford to risk a Slayer.”

Willow touched the girl’s cheek gently. “She was so young.”

“Willow?”

Arnold half turned to see Oz standing in the doorway, Buffy leaning on his shoulder. “What happened?” Buffy asked, seeing the body on the couch.

“There was a problem.” Willow helped him to his feet. “What happened to you?”

“Three demons,” she said briefly, “but we handled it.” Buffy’s eyes strayed to Gracia again, and she closed her eyes. “I think I twisted my ankle. No big deal.”

Arnold didn’t argue, looking instead at the body laying on the couch. This was the part he hated about being a Watcher.


	29. Pretoria, South Africa

**“…There are things I haven’t said, things I want to say. When Anya was killed, I realized how much I’d lost. I would hate for the same thing to happen between us. I’m not scared of dying, only of losing you…” ~Excerpt from a letter from Xander Harris to Corey Bokhari**

The reunion had been somewhat anticlimactic. If Willow or Buffy or Dawn had been present, Xander might have kept up the slightly antagonistic sniping just to keep up appearances, but there was no one around who expected it.

Well, Spike might, but Xander didn’t mind not living up to the vampire’s expectations.

Much to his own surprise, they had been getting along quite well, probably because Spike appeared to accept that Xander was in charge, and that he was there on something akin to a mercenary basis. Of course, so far all they had done was strategize and plan; once the real decisions had to be made, things might get a little more dicey.

“Harris?”

Xander glanced up from the map he’d been poring over. “Yeah?”

“We need to talk.”

He sat back down in his chair and waved Spike to the one on the other side. “What’s up?”

The vampire shut the door to the office behind him, ignoring the proffered seat. “We’re gonna have to make some tough decisions here.”

Xander closed his eyes briefly before opening them to see the sympathy on Spike’s face. “Yeah. What were you thinking?”

“We don’t have the manpower—or woman power—to mount a rescue.” Spike crossed his arms. “I think you know that.”

Xander put his head in his hands. “I have a duty to Nàtali. She’s scared, she’s alone, and I’m her Watcher.”

Spike cleared his throat. “I know. That’s why I think I should be the one to go.”

His head shot up. “What are you talking about?”

“Look, here’s what I figure,” Spike said, finally sitting down and leaning forward intently. “You need all of us, but those bastards need the sacrifices. No sacrifices, and they’re off balance and pissed. Soon as they figure out the captives are gone, you launch a frontal assault, and we come in from the back.”

“Who’s ‘we’?” Xander hated to admit that Spike was right, but it was true. The Oribi scouts had been certain of two things: there was an unknown number of children being held captive, and that there were more demons than they would likely be able handle.

“Me, Nàtali, an’ anybody else capable of holding a weapon,” Spike replied. “We’re gonna need the help.”

Xander was shaking his head before the words were completely out of Spike’s mouth. “No. She’s too young. It’ll get her killed, and we don’t know what kind of shape she’s in.”

“Give me a little credit, Harris,” Spike shot back. “If the kid is sick or hurt, you think I’d make her fight? I take care of Slayers for a living. It’s what I bloody well do now.”

Xander knew that he’d hurt Spike’s feelings. “It’s just—it’s Nàtali. If you knew her…”

“They’re all special.” Spike’s voice had softened. “You think I don’t get attached to them?”

“I’m sure you do.”

“I know she’s one of yours, but there aren’t a lot of options here. We barely have the people necessary to head up a rescue mission; we sure as hell don’t have the people to hang back an’ protect them from the bastards, too.”

Xander rose abruptly, going to stand by the window. “You’re telling me that we’re going to need my Slayers.”

“That’s what I’m telling you.”

Xander swore creatively. “The new one—”

“Leave her with Corey, an’ give her a crossbow. Tell her to stay back. It’s about all you can do.”

Xander leaned his forehead against the window, thinking about his girls, about Whit and Miles and Corey. They had no choice; Spike was right about that much. Without every one of them, the demons would succeed in their bid at opening the Hellmouth, and with trouble in every corner of the world, there was no one else to stop it.

There was a brief knock on the door, and Miles stuck his head in. “Xander? Do you have a moment?”

“Yeah.” He straightened and faced the older man. “What’s up?”

“The Oribi have sent word. It’s time.”

Xander met Spike’s eyes and saw the question there. The vampire would let him make the call; did he attempt the rescue, or did he attack, hoping that Nàtali and the rest would still be alive at the end of it?

“Who else besides you, Spike?” Xander asked.

“I’ll take Audra. That will give us a few more options.”

Miles raised his eyebrows. “What’s this about, Xander?”

“Spike’s our ace in the hole.” Xander’s smile was tight. “Again.”

~~~~~

Spike hadn’t been sure what to expect in Africa. He might have been the best choice from a purely strategic standpoint, but he probably wasn’t Xander’s first choice; their relationship had never been an easy one.

Xander had greeted him at the airport himself, a dark-skinned beauty next to him. Spike had sensed a certain amount of tension immediately, but none of it had been directed at him. Instead, Xander had appeared grateful for his presence, and had listened intently to his suggestions.

Their relationship was actually nothing short of friendly, which Spike attributed to the apocalypse being just around the corner.

He had been less than thrilled to discover that one of their Slayers was being held as a sacrifice by the demons responsible for the attempt to open the Hellmouth. (Spike liked to refer to them as bastards, wankers, or some other pejorative, just to avoid confusion with the Oribi, who were also demons by definition.)

The girl’s disappearance seemed to account for the strain on Xander and Corey’s relationship, in addition to the arrival of a new Slayer who spent one night out of three screaming her head off. She was having Slayer dreams, and while they needed the information she could give them, it was causing all of them to go short on sleep.

Spike lit up a cigarette and glanced at his companion. “Where’s Vi?”

“She’s coming.” Audra looked over at him. “Have you told Buffy about this?”

“What’s there to tell? We’re goin’ into a battle, and if the Hellmouth gets opened, we’re all sodding buggered.” He checked his pack and winced, realizing that he had only three fags left, and no time to get more; he’d have to ration himself.

“More gloom and doom?” Vi asked as she approached, having overheard Spike’s last comment. “What’s with all the cloak and dagger stuff?”

“We just needed to talk privately.” Spike tapped the ash from his cigarette onto the bare dirt next to the wall. “Xander agreed to the plan, which is goin’ to leave you in charge of the three others, plus Rory.”

Vi’s expression was puzzled. “I thought that left Xander in charge.”

“In theory, yeah, but my job here is to give him backup and provide strategic help where necessary. With me off on this little errand, that task is going to fall to you.”

The young Slayer was already shaking her head. “You’re crazy. Xander’s not going to listen to me.”

“You’re an experienced Slayer who’s dealt with two Hellmouths—Sunnydale an’ Munich. Other than Buffy an’ Faith, you’re one of the most experienced Slayers we’ve got.” Spike raised a scarred eyebrow. “So you just remind Xander of that if he balks.”

Vi nodded reluctantly. “Sure, but I still don’t see what I’m supposed to be doing.”

“Keeping our friend on the straight and narrow, and reminding him of some hard truths.” Spike sighed. “You were there. You remember how many we lost. Xander hasn’t learned those hard lessons yet, and somebody might need to remind him.”

“You’re assuming that I’m capable of that.”

“You’re a Slayer. It comes with the territory, luv.” He put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I know I’m askin’ a lot.”

Vi took a deep breath. “Comes with the territory, right?”

“Atta girl.” He squeezed hard, knowing that he wouldn’t hurt her, then looked at Audra. “You okay with your role in this? You can stay behind if you like.”

Audra snorted. “Are you kidding me? Somebody has to keep you out of trouble.”

Spike smirked. “Spoken like a true Slayer.”

~~~~~

Corey knew that Xander believed she was angry with him, and she’d allowed him to go on thinking that; it was easier than talking when her guilt was so overwhelming she couldn’t find words.

She had been responsible for Nàtali, and she was the one who had led her into danger. Corey should have been able to protect her; the girl was, after all, only thirteen.

“Corey?”

She turned to seen Whit standing in her doorway. “What’s going on?”

“We’re having a planning meeting.” He paused. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” She managed a smile to reassure him. “I’ll be right there.”

Corey finished packing her bag. They were leaving for the outskirts of the Oribi village, and from there would plan on engaging the gathering forces. She didn’t know how long they would be there, or what she would need. Corey liked to be prepared for any contingency.

She just had no idea what to expect.

Zipping up her bag, Corey decided that she’d focus on making sure the first aid kit was full. At least she could make a list of all possible injuries and prepare for those possibilities.

They were holding the meeting in the dining hall, a long, open room with picnic-style benches shoved up against the wall. Whit, Xander and Spike were standing with Miles, Vi, and Audra in a tight knot, and she hesitated before going to join them.

Moving through the room, she glanced at the Slayers; the girls from the school were in one corner, along with the new Slayer from Johannesburg, Inna. The Slayers from England were standing together, clearly more relaxed, as they teased one another and Rory.

Taking a deep breath, she moved towards the adults. “Are we ready?”

Xander glanced at her, then away, refusing to meet her eyes. “I think so. Spike?”

The vampire nodded. “Think we’ve got the best plan possible under the circumstances.”

Xander raised his hand. “Okay, guys. Gather around.” They moved closer, and Corey moved back to stand just behind him. “We’re going to need all hands for this one, which means no one gets left behind. Even if you’re not on the front lines, we’re going to need people who can perform first aid. Miles is in charge of that.”

When Xander looked over at the older man, Miles stepped forward. “Inna, Zindy, and Leotta, you’re going to be helping me.”

“And me?” Emily asked.

“You and Ilori are going to be paired up with Corey and Vi,” Xander replied. “We’re operating in teams for this. Even if you end up getting separated from the larger group, you _stay with your partner_.” He met each pair of eyes in turn. “That goes for everybody. Whit?”

Whit stepped forward, beginning to go over the details of the plan. Corey noticed that he’d grown in both confidence and maturity since coming to South Africa. He was going to do a fantastic job—assuming that he survived.

When as much had been explained to the girls as was possible, given that things tended to change in the heat of battle, everyone left to collect their luggage and whatever other belongings they would need.

“I need to talk to you.” Xander grabbed Corey’s arm as she tried to leave.

“My things—”

“I’ll get them,” Whit called over his shoulder.

She stared after him, slightly annoyed that she wasn’t going to be able to put this off any longer. “What’s going on?”

“You haven’t spoken more than two words to me in the last few days, and I know you can’t still be angry about me going with Kei.”

“It doesn’t have anything to do with you, Xander. Can we leave it at that?”

“Is it Nàtali?”

“I should have protected her.” The admission was difficult; Corey felt as though it had been ripped from her throat. “She was with me.”

“Corey.” His hands squeezed her shoulders. “You’re lucky to be alive.”

She shook her head helplessly, finding it impossible to respond.

Xander pulled her close, holding her tightly. “If I had lost you, it would have killed me.”

Corey buried her face in his shirt. “I’m sorry. I know how close you two were, and—”

“I love her, everybody does,” Xander murmured in her ear. “I hate to say this, but she’s a Slayer, and I’ve always known…” He trailed off. “I just thought I’d have more time.”

“She might still make it, Xander.”

“That’s what we have to keep holding onto.”

~~~~~

Spike had never met an Oribi before, but from what he understood that wasn’t unusual. They rarely left the savanna, and never left Africa.

He watched as Kei and Ebu, their contacts, came forward to greet Xander with a firm handshake and a friendly clap on the shoulder. Spike never thought he’d see the day when Harris was such good friends with demons.

They exchanged a few words and Xander glanced back at Spike. He took that as his cue and approached. “Yeah?”

“Ebu is going to be the one to lead you to where they’re holding the kids.” Xander nodded at the demon on the right. “He’ll get you close enough, and then you and Audra are on your own.”

Spike nodded. “Makes sense. Thanks,” he added for Ebu’s benefit.

“If they make the sacrifice, the mouth of hell opens, and darkness descends. We do this for us, not for you.”

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Well, pardon me, but we do this for all of us.”

Ebu dipped his head in acknowledgment. “Ah, but you are a Champion.” He smiled thinly. “You bear the mark.”

“Just what I always wanted,” Spike muttered, rubbing a finger along his eyebrow. “Right. We should get goin’. We’ve got a ways to go.”

Xander met his eyes. “You’ve got 12 hours to get in and get out.”

“Understood.” There was a moment of silence, and Spike’s lips quirked. “You’ll talk to Buffy if—”

Harris winced. “Yeah. Shit. You’d better come back in one piece, because I so do not want to make that phone call.”

They shook hands, and Spike thought it was probably the most civil conversation they’d ever had. “Take care of yourself, Harris.”

“You, too.”

Spike turned to Audra. “Ready, pet?”

She nodded and adjusted the straps on her pack. Spike took the pack Corey held out. Both were filled with food and water for the kids; they had no idea what kind of shape the captives would be in when they found them, and they would have to travel.

Ebu set off at a fast clip straight towards the setting sun, Spike and Audra close on his heels. According to the Oribi, it was a two hour journey, and there were about half a dozen children—human and demon—in the enemy encampment.

Spike still wasn’t sure how they were going to get them out and keep them safe; he just hoped that they all came through in one piece.


	30. The Plains of South Africa

**“…We attack in a few hours. Spike and Audra have already left to try and get Nàtali and the other children out before then. I sent you a letter before we left Pretoria, in case I don’t make it. If I come out of this alive, burn it…” ~ Excerpt from an email from Xander Harris to Rupert Giles**

Xander stood next to Kei, feeling the darkness like a living thing around him. It was still a few hours until dawn, and this was the hardest part. The waiting was always the hardest part.

“What’s the final count?”

“Between seventy and eighty. We haven’t been able to get close enough to get an exact number.”

“That’s probably close enough.” Xander sighed. “It’s still too many.”

Kei gave him a thin smile. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. You forget that we have a desire to drive them back stronger than any they have to perform this evil task. They are on our ground.”

“Home court advantage,” Xander murmured with a smile, remembering high school football and basketball games, the memories suddenly as vivid and tangible as the demon next to him.

Kei glanced over at him. “I have not heard that term.”

He shrugged. “It’s just that we have a lot of inexperienced fighters, and I can’t claim to be any good, even if I _do_ have experience.”

“You have heart, my friend. Let us pray that is enough, because it is nearly all we have as well.”

Xander nodded. “Yeah. I’m going to see if I can find Corey.”

“Get some sleep if you can.”

Xander shrugged. “We’ll see.”

He made his way through the dark camp as quietly as possible. They had ruled out campfires or any other kind of light to avoid discovery. He’d watched Corey bed down, however, and he’d memorized the route.

The stars and the moon gave just enough light to allow him to see the rough outline of her form under the light blanket, and he knelt down next to her. Xander hated to wake her up early when they would be rising shortly.

“What are you doing?”

Her whisper surprised him. “I thought you were asleep.”

She shook her head silently. “Come on.” Rising, she led him away from the others. “I guess we need to talk, huh?”

“We haven’t done much of that lately.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I get guilt, Corey,” Xander said softly. “And it’s not your fault.”

She shook her head. “I think I know that, but if anything happens to her, I’m not going to be able to forgive myself.”

“I blamed myself for Anya’s death,” Xander said conversationally. “She died in the last battle with the First.”

“I know.”

“We were supposed to get married. Did I ever tell you that?” He sensed, rather than saw, her head shake. “If I had gone through with it, we would have had at least a year together, and at the end, I would have been with her. Buffy would have stationed us at the same exit to keep the Turok Han from leaving the school.”

“I don’t—”

Xander took a deep breath. “I realized that if I kept blaming myself, if I kept asking ‘what if,’ I’d get stuck. I did that with Jesse, and I didn’t want to do it again.”

“Jesse?”

“A friend. He got turned right after Buffy came to town. I held a lot of hate for a long time, and it didn’t do anybody any good.” Xander smiled softly. “Guilt doesn’t help.”

“And how do you escape it?”

“That I don’t know.” He put an arm around her shoulders, squeezing tightly. “But you needed to know that before we go in. I needed to tell you that I love you.”

He heard her soft sigh mere seconds before he felt her lips on his.

~~~~~

“There.” Ebu’s voice was soft, and Spike could see what he was referring to. The kids could be seen in a well-lit clearing the midst of the enemy encampment. It looked like they were tied up and roped together, with four guards stationed close around them.

“Damn.” It was a mild curse for how he was feeling. There went any chance of sneaking them out; they were going to need a distraction.

Ebu echoed him, although Spike couldn’t understand what he said. The words were in a language he’d never heard before, and he had to assume that it was the Oribi’s native tongue.

“What is it?”

“Do you see?”

Spike squinted. He could see one human child, most likely Nàtali, plus five young demons. The fifth was an Oribi. “Ah.”

“The scouts did not get close enough to see, or they would have told me. I am honor bound to help you get them out.”

“Do you know him?” Audra asked.

“A distant relation. We had thought him killed, that he wandered too far from the village.” Ebu shook his head. “He is adventurous.”

“Aren’t all boys his age?” Spike glanced around, trying to decide on the best approach. An idea hit him, and he pulled out a lighter. “What’s the danger of a grassfire out here?”

“Enormous.” Ebu’s brow creased in thought. “But perhaps it would be a risk worth taking.”

“If we just set fire to one or two of the tents,” Audra suggested tentatively.

Spike frowned. “You got a bead on the main tent? Or the one that the leader is usin’?”

“It would be in the middle, the most protected spot.” Ebu pointed. “There is the most likely one.”

Spike could see it, and since it was bigger than all of the others, there was a good chance that he was right. “Right. You two think you can handle getting the kids loose while I light a fire?”

Audra raised her eyebrows. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

“You got another idea?”

“You got a crossbow? I’m pretty good at archery.”

“I don’t, but I know someone who does.” He nodded at the guard he could see pacing near the perimeter. The guard was carrying a longbow, among other weapons. “Be right back.”

Spike moved quietly, swiftly, staying low to the ground. The moon was too bright, and there were too many stars; he would have preferred the utter darkness of a new moon.

He’d done this before, though—hunted prey of all sorts. This time was no different, and Spike waited until the guard was on the farthest end of his circuit before springing. He snapped its neck immediately; normally, Spike appreciated a good fight, but tonight was about speed and silence.

It was satisfying in its own way.

Spike made his way back towards Ebu and Audra, the bow and quiver of arrows in hand. “You want to do the honors, pet?”

Audra smiled. “I was always brilliant at archery.”

“And so modest, too,” he teased.

They grinned at one another; hours and days working together had made their partnership a strong one.

“How will you light it on fire?” Ebu asked, breaking into their repartee.

Spike stripped off his jacket, then his t-shirt. He ripped two strips from the hem and wrapped it around the heads of two of the arrows.

Audra picked up the bow and pulled the string experimentally. “Nice,” she judged. “I shouldn’t have a problem.”

Spike flicked the lighter, watching the flame shoot up. “Let’s go, then.”

~~~~~

Audra was more nervous than she wanted to let on. If she missed, they were pretty much screwed. Not to mention the poor kids. Spike had theorized that the demons wouldn’t kill them because they would be needed for the sacrifice, but it was hard to say.

She didn’t want to be the one responsible for their deaths.

The arrow arced through the dark sky, falling with precision on the roof of the tent. Flames leapt up almost immediately, and Audra watched as Spike lit the flame on the other arrow. She did the same thing with the next, sending it into the other bigger tent.

As the fire spread, alarm began to spread, too. The guards standing watch over the children each took half a step towards the chaos, then one waved the others on. He moved closer, drawing his sword. That left one guard, and Audra chose a third arrow carefully.

By the time the demon’s body fell to the ground, all three of them were running. Spike and Ebu got there first; Audra’s speed was no match for theirs. Ebu was busy with the bonds of the Oribi boy, speaking softly and reassuringly.

All of the children were dirty and unkempt, and when their bonds were severed, they stumbled as they tried to stand.

“Come on,” Audra whispered harshly. “We have to go.” She glanced at the lone human child. “Are you Nàtali?”

The girl nodded, her eyes wide with fear.

“It’s okay. We’re with Xander.” Audra held out her hand. “We have to go. They’re attacking shortly.”

“I want to fight,” the young Slayer said fiercely, her eyes burning. “I want to kill them.”

“We have to get the others out first, and then I promise you can kill every single one you can catch.”

“Audra, no time for chatting.” Spike was ushering two of the children in front of him. One of the smaller, weaker ones was on his back, arms locked around his throat.

She heard a roar behind them, and she knew they’d been discovered. “Go!”

Putting another arrow to her new bow, she felled the demon who had raised the alarm and prayed that his voice had been lost in the general confusion.

As they began running, Audra hoped that they hadn’t cut things too close, that Xander might somehow see the flames and know that they needed another distraction. Otherwise, she wasn’t sure they would make it out alive.

~~~~~

Corey scanned the horizon with binoculars. The sun still wasn’t up, but she hadn’t been able to sleep. Even though she doubted that she’d be able to see anything, at least she could feel as though she was doing _something_.

Pulling the binoculars away from her eyes, she blinked to ensure that she hadn’t been imagining things. They had moved as close as they could to the camp without being spotted, wanting to make certain that they could move swiftly when the time came.

It wasn’t time yet, but it looked as though the schedule had just been moved up.

“Xander! Kei!” Corey called as loudly as she dared to sound the alarm. “We have to go!”

Kei was at her side in a moment. “What is it?”

She pointed. “Fire. There’s only one thing that could be.”

He nodded, and suddenly Xander was there, too. “I woke the Slayers.”

Vi and Emily were on her other side. “I couldn’t sleep much,” Vi admitted. “Give us five minutes.”

“We may not have that long,” Corey replied.

“We don’t need five minutes.” Emily looked at Xander. “It’s just going to take a few of us to keep them busy. Call us the advance guard; we’ll use crossbows and stay out of the way until you get there.”

Xander shook his head. “I don’t—”

“I will go.” Kei hefted a large bow. “Who is ready?”

“Me.” Whit showed up on his other side. “Rory’s got the English Slayers. They’re nearly ready. We’ll only be a minute or two ahead.”

Corey watched Xander swallow hard, and he looked over at her and nodded. “Go. Be careful.”

She didn’t need to be told twice.

~~~~~

Miles hated waiting, although he’d perfected the art over the years. When his arthritis had begun to get bad, he’d been retired from the field, and he’d had to learn patience, believing that he’d have the opportunity to serve the Council again sometime in the future.

He’d been right, but now he wished he hadn’t been.

Then again, Rupert Giles had been known for his slightly unorthodox ways, and he was certainly the right man for this particular job. In anyone else’s hands, the Council likely would have failed within the first few months.

This sort of waiting was even more difficult; there would be injured, and he was responsible for seeing to their care, but until they started bringing them in, there was nothing for him to do.

Miles glanced over at Zindy and Leotta, who were talking softly, their hands joined, Inna sitting nearby. Ilori was both older and bigger, and Xander had elected to allow her to fight in the battle. Miles hadn’t liked the idea, but he had agreed that they had needed every fighter they could get.

“Miles!”

It was Spike’s voice that he heard, and the vampire came running towards him, a young child in his arms. “Quick.”

Miles pointed him to one of the pallets they’d set up for the wounded, and checked the young demon’s pulse. “What happened?”

“Think he was one of the first they grabbed,” Spike replied. “Don’t know what he needs, but he needs it fast.”

“We’ll take care of him.” He glanced past Spike to see Nàtali standing there impatiently. “Nàtali! How are you?”

“Ready to kill them,” she said seriously. “Spike, you promised.”

The vampire looked over at her. “So I did, pet.” He looked at the other children that Ebu and Audra had led into the tent. “We’ll see you soon, Miles.”

“Wait!” he called. “How are things going? Were you able to see anything?”

Spike shook his head. “No. We were too busy running.”

They were gone a moment later, leaving Miles with the children and Ebu, who was speaking to a young Oribi. “Very well. Zindy, Leotta, get water and food. Quickly now.”

It appeared that the waiting was over.

~~~~~

Emily brushed sweat-soaked hair out of her face and looked around for Whit. She could hear moans and cries, but the smoke drifting up from the charred remains of the camp obscured any sight of the wounded. As she moved closer to the sounds of voices, she ran across one of the enemy host. It was writhing in pain, and she paused to put it out of its misery.

Smiling mirthlessly, Emily paused to wonder what her parents would say if they could see her now. Her father might unbend enough to be proud, but her mother would be horrified.

“Em!” Whit came running up to her. “You okay?”

“I’m good.” Strangely enough, she was. She had just killed who knew how many demons, and she felt amazing. Strong, like she could take on the world.

Emily had never felt this way before.

“How many did we lose?” she asked, knowing that it was inevitable in a battle like the one they’d just gone through.

Whit shook his head. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out. We still haven’t accounted for everyone yet.”

She followed him through the debris and stubble to the small knot of people. Spike, Vi, and Audra were standing and appeared to be unharmed. Xander had a makeshift bandage wrapped around one arm, and his other arm was wrapped tightly around Corey, who had blood down one side of her face from a head laceration.

“Emily,” Xander said when he saw her, relief coloring his tone. “You okay?”

She nodded. “Where’s Ilori? And Nàtali? Have you seen them?” The expression on their faces didn’t give her much hope. “Where are they?”

“We lost Ilori, and Nàtali’s with Miles.” Xander looked grim. “We lost Rory, too, and it looks like it’s going to be touch and go with Kayla.”

Emily didn’t know the others well, and while she felt regret, there was no sorrow. She would save that for Ilori; it was likely that they wouldn’t run out of grief anytime in the near future. “But Nàtali?”

“Miles thinks she’s going to make it,” Corey replied quietly.

Emily swallowed. “Where are Kei and Ebu?”

“They went back to the village to get help,” Xander said. “They said their people could give us a hand.” He looked around at the destruction. “We’re going to need it.”

“I’d better call Rupert,” Spike announced. “He’s going to want an update.”

“There’s a satellite phone back at the hospital tent.” Xander began to walk in that direction, his arm still around Corey. “Let’s get out of here. We’ll finish the cleanup later.”

The elation that Emily had felt melted away. The thrill of the fight, the hunt, was a wonderful thing, but she liked it a lot better when nobody died but the bad guys.


	31. New Council Headquarters, Bath, England

**“…We have received word from the Brachen that the darkness is growing here as well. A number of them have been badly beaten, and a young one has been killed by demons bent on welcoming the darkness. We do not have the manpower to offer them full protection, and so I’ve granted sanctuary to any who want to come here. It should be an interesting transition…” ~Excerpt from an email from Rupert Giles to Willow Rosenberg**

“I’m going.” Dawn ignored the young Brachen demon sitting in the other chair. She’d met Johnny the last time he’d come to Bath, and she really liked him; she knew what Spike would have done if he were here, and she wasn’t about to let Giles shirk his responsibilities.

Giles sighed. “Dawn. We’ve been over this.”

“No, _you’ve_ been over this. I’ve listened to what you had to say, and I don’t agree with you.” Dawn sat back down, knowing that she had even less chance of Giles listening to her if she sounded at all hysterical. “They can’t all come here, and you know it.”

He shook his head. “It’s as much as I can do, Dawn.” Giles glanced at Johnny. “I truly am sorry, but our most experienced warriors are on the other side of the world. Spike is in Africa with our best, Buffy’s in Brazil, and—”

“What about Erna?” Dawn pressed.

“The Hellmouth in Munich is one of the few places that isn’t on the verge of destruction.” His tone was beginning to take on an exasperated edge. “I don’t want to risk having it open while the Slayer is away.”

“Then that leaves me,” Dawn replied with perfect logic. “Even if the Brachen send the young, the old, and the sick here, they’re going to need help, and Spike promised. We owe them.”

Dawn didn’t dare look at Johnny to see how he was reacting to her argument. She knew that she was putting Giles on the spot by bringing it up in front of the same person who was requesting their aid, but it was the principle of the thing—and she’d already said as much.

“We appreciate the offer of sanctuary,” Johnny said softly. “Truly. If that is all you can give us, we’ll take it. Just knowing…”

Giles pulled off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose wearily, and Dawn knew she’d won. “It’s a stop-gap measure,” the head Watcher finally said. “You realize that.”

“It—it isn’t, actually.” Johnny sounded hesitant. “There may be something else we can do for you.”

“Unless you’re talking about a magic ring that will bring back the balance and ensure good triumphs over evil, I very much doubt that.” Giles sounded extremely short, and Dawn shot the Brachen an apologetic look.

Johnny shook his head. “I’m afraid not, but this isn’t the first time we’ve had to deal with this sort of menace. It arose before in Los Angeles. Doyle was the one to stop them. He was one of us, and the story got around.”

Dawn had no idea what story Johnny was talking about, and judging from the expression on Giles’ face, he didn’t either. If the situation was anything like what they were facing right now, however, it meant big, nasty demons killing every demon who was helping them, or who had a drop of human blood.

“I don’t understand.” Giles wasn’t even looking at them anymore. He was sorting through the papers on his desk, as though he would find the answers he sought there.

“The key is to get them all in one place, right? And then get rid of them?”

Dawn was beginning to get excited. “Like, if we had something they really, really wanted?”

Johnny grinned. “Exactly. And then we could bring the roof down on them. Or something else just as heavy.”

“Now that’s what I call an excellent idea.” Miriam spoke from behind them, and Dawn turned in her chair to see the head of the coven enter the room on bare feet. She often wondered how the woman managed to get around without alerting anyone to her presence, and the only explanation she could come up with was “magic.”

“You are _not_ encouraging this.” But Giles’ tone was weary and didn’t back up the vehemence of his words. “Who are you thinking of sending?”

“I have a few coven members who would be more than willing to help. The rest will be needed shortly, but this shouldn’t be a task that requires power, just cunning.”

Giles sighed. “And the bait?”

Miriam’s gaze focused on Dawn. “What would be more attractive than the idea that the key to opening all portals to all dimensions is ripe for the taking?”

Dawn frowned. “But I’m not the Key anymore.”

Miriam smiled mysteriously. “No, but the existence of the Key is common knowledge in the demon world. The idea that we have it would be too much to resist.”

~~~~~

“You did _not_ send her to London.”

Giles had to admit that he was relieved to be able to honestly say that he hadn’t acceded to Dawn’s demands that he send her to London to help the Brachen. “No. Miriam rightly pointed out that we couldn’t risk her falling into the wrong hands if it turned out that she is still the Key. The fact that Miriam was ready and willing to send four coven members didn’t hurt, and there were a couple of Watchers she deemed ready to help as well.”

The two Watchers he’d sent were young—too young, really, but he’d sent Rory and Whit to South Africa, and they weren’t much older.

“Have you heard from Spike?”

“Not yet, but I’ll be sure to tell him to call you first thing,” Giles replied. “I imagine he’ll call shortly.”

“Okay.” She sounded both reluctant and resigned, and Giles knew exactly the look that she’d have on her face.

“How is everything there?”

“Not great,” Buffy admitted. “Losing Gracia hit the Slayers pretty hard. I mean, we’re…”

“Used to it?” he suggested when she trailed off.

“That sounds horrible.”

“Yes, it does.” Giles didn’t make excuses for that, but he never forgot that they had been fighting a war for a very long time now—however unconventional it might be. Not forgetting that fact was part of being a Watcher. “I’m sorry that I have to ask you to stay, Buffy.”

“I get it. I might not like it, but I get it.” She sighed. “Tell Spike to call as soon as he can.”

“Of course.”

They said their goodbyes, and Giles hung up the phone to find Miriam sitting across from him. “When did you get in?”

She had gone back to the coven, taking Harry with her, to talk to the witches they would be sending to London and to judge how much space they had available to take in the Brachens seeking shelter.

“Just a few minutes ago. I needed to talk to you.”

His heart sank. “So soon?”

“Yes. I’m afraid so.”

Giles leaned back in his chair. “Have a seat.” He knew what she was talking about; they had spoken of this eventuality a month before, when Miriam had first realized that there were certain events that could not be avoided. “What is the next step?”

“Buffy is staying in Brazil?”

“She is.”

“Spike will need to go to Los Angeles.”

“Buffy is not going to like that.”

“At the moment, it doesn’t matter what she does or does not like,” Miriam replied. “You know that as well as I do.”

“I just want to know that this is the best solution. When Buffy finds out, she’s going to believe that I’ve betrayed her.”

Miriam’s expression was sympathetic. “Let me worry about that.” She looked at the phone. “That will be for you.”

When it started ringing, Giles grimaced, annoyed. “I really wish you wouldn’t do that.”

“Does it bother you?” she asked innocently.

He sighed. “Yes, which is exactly why you do it.” Picking up the phone, he said, “Giles here.” The voice on the other end was familiar. “Ah, Wesley. It’s good to hear from you again.”

~~~~~

Nora stood at the door, just behind Talia. The older girl had insisted that because no one ever told them anything, this was the only way they could find out what had happened to Spike.

Rose shifted from foot to foot behind her. “I don’t think we should be doing this.”

“Shut up!” Talia hissed. “If you didn’t want to come, you didn’t have to.”

“Sshh.” Nora was still trying to listen. The only thing she’d been able to hear was that Spike had made it, since that’s who Giles was apparently talking to on the phone.

She just made out Giles saying something about Los Angeles, and frowned. What did Spike have to do with Los Angeles?

“What do you three think you’re doing?”

Nora straightened guiltily, looking up to see Oliver leaning on his crutches just a few feet away.

“Rose! You were supposed to be looking out.”

Rose blushed, but she didn’t look terribly sorry. “I didn’t see him.”

Oliver raised his eyebrows. “That’s enough. I’m sure you three have somewhere else to be.” He glared at Talia especially. “Off with you now, before I find something for you to do that you won’t like.”

Talia and Rose didn’t have to be told again; Oliver had a tendency to find things that involved lots of large, boring books—but Nora _needed_ to know. She knew that Buffy wasn’t coming back for a while; she had to know about Spike.

“Well?” Oliver asked.

“I don’t care,” she said stubbornly. “I have to find out about Spike.”

His face softened, and he leaned forward, putting a friendly hand on her head. “Knock, then.”

Nora stared at him, then squared her shoulders and knocked. The head Watcher intimidated her like no one else did. He was in charge, and he didn’t seem to like her much. Not even dinner with him and Miriam had taken the edge off.

“Come in!”

She opened the door cautiously. “Mr. Giles?”

His eyes widened, and he waved her to a seat across from him. “I see. Yes, well, I can understand why you would be concerned about that, but I trust that you will focus on the larger goal.” Giles looked at Nora. “There’s someone here that would like to talk to you, if you have a minute.”

Nora took the phone when he held it out and pressed it to her ear. “Hello?”

“Nora-luv?” Spike sounded tired, but not unwilling to talk. “What’s up?”

“When are you coming home?”

“Won’t be for a bit, pet. Seems like there’s some trouble in L.A. that needs my special touch.”

“Are you doing to die?”

There was a moment’s silence, then Spike replied, “You kiddin’ me? Buffy would have to resurrect me just to kick my arse.”

“It’s just that I dreamed about it,” she admitted quietly. Babies cried about nightmares, and she wasn’t a baby. Nora was a Slayer, and she was responsible for her brother.

Now the silence felt heavy with meaning, not shock, and his voice was utterly serious when he ordered, “Tell me about your dream, pet.”

It was the sort of tone to brook no argument, so Nora told him. “There was a huge crowd of demons, and there were people there with you. I didn’t know any of them, though. And you were all fighting, but there were too many, and you disappeared.”

“Not dusted?” Spike’s voice was sharp, underscoring the importance of her answer.

“No. There wasn’t any dust. You were there, and then you weren’t.”

“Thank you for telling me about it, luv. Now, pass the phone over to Rupert, and take care of yourself, Nora.”

Once again, his tone made it clear that there was no sense in protesting. Nora handed the phone over without a word. She could hear both sides of the conversation now; Spike sounded upset.

“What’s this about? You doin’ it again?”

“No, I’m not,” Giles responded. “Spike, there isn’t anyone else. If you can think of someone, I’m open to suggestions.”

“And if I don’t go?”

“I have it on good information that the end result won’t be pleasant.”

“This is the end, then. The big one.”

“Yes. I believe that it is.” Giles hesitated, and Nora could see from the expression on his face that he was having a difficult time with this—that he was doing something that he didn’t want to do. “If I send Buffy now, neither one of you will make it out alive.”

The silence hung heavily, and Nora held her breath, not wanting to draw attention to herself. She was afraid that Giles would send her away if he realized that she was still there, and could hear everything.

“I see. And me?”

“There is a reason that Miriam gave you that ring, other than just to keep you safe in the sunlight,” Giles hedged.

“Yeah. I guess Buffy was right, then. She’s goin’ to want to come, you know.”

“She doesn’t have to know.”

“I won’t keep this from her,” Spike snapped. “We’ve done enough of that.”

“Then we’ll see to it another way. Her death and yours are certain, however, should she arrive too soon.” Giles paused. “I _am_ sorry, William. This isn’t fair to either one of you.”

“Who said life would be fair?” Spike asked rhetorically. “I’ll see you when I see you, then, Rupes.”

“Take care of yourself.”

Nora watched with wide eyes as Giles hung up the phone, his eyes steady on her. “How many of these dreams have you had?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Almost every night?”

He sighed. “Those, Nora, are Slayer dreams—or most of them are. We’ll have to see if you can’t tell the difference in time. You really must tell someone about them, however.” Giles stopped. “No, you must tell me. I don’t think this is information we want becoming common knowledge. Do you understand?”

Nora nodded. In a way, she felt warm inside, knowing that she knew something that no one else did—not even Talia.

~~~~~

Dawn wasn’t sure why she was doing this, except that she needed to know. Giles had forbade her from going to London because of the risk that she would fall into the wrong hands, because she might still be the Key. It wasn’t something she’d thought much about over the years, but now it seemed imperative that she know.

And Miriam appeared to be the only person who could tell her.

“Come in!”

The cheerful tone made her feel a little less unsure about barging in, and Dawn entered the witch’s room to find the woman ensconced in a chair with Harry in her lap. She was running her fingers through the little boy’s hair as he read laboriously out of a picture book.

“We were just finishing up,” Miriam said when Dawn hesitated. “I’m sure Harry wouldn’t mind one more listening in.”

Harry shook his head shyly and continued. Dawn sat down, smiling at the story of the brave little prince that he was reciting. She didn’t recognize the tale, but there were characters that seemed familiar to her.

When Harry pronounced “the end” proudly, Miriam pressed her lips to the top of his head. “Well done, sweetheart. Now, why don’t you go find your sister.”

He ran off after giving her an enthusiastic hug, and Dawn shook her head. “He’s doing really well.”

“He’s had some help—he and Nora both.”

“You can do that?”

Miriam shook her head. “I can ease memories, and the pain that they cause. It doesn’t mean that he does not grieve, or that he’s forgotten his parents, but I can soften the pain.”

“I wish you had been there after my mother died,” Dawn murmured.

“Ah, but she died of natural causes,” Miriam said gently. “For Harry and Nora, I can ease the fear that comes from seeing your parents killed before your eyes, knowing that you can do nothing to stop it, and that they will be coming for you next.”

Dawn cleared her throat. “I wanted to talk to you about being the Key.”

“Yes. I thought you might.” Miriam folded her hands in front of her. “You want to know if that power still rests in you.”

Dawn nodded. “I need to know if someone could use my blood to end the world again.”

Miriam shook her head. “No, but someone might use it to save the world; that is another matter entirely.”


	32. Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

**“…I should be ready to leave in about a week. Zoë and Arnold are both doing really well, and I’m anxious to get back home…” ~Excerpt from an email from Buffy Summers to Rupert Giles**

Willow picked up the phone on the third ring, distracted and breathless. “Hello?”

“It’s time.”

It was the call she’d been dreading. “How long?”

“Five days should do it,” Miriam responded. “Spike left for Los Angeles yesterday, and I don’t imagine that it will be more than a few days before the Senior Partners make their bid for supremacy.”

When Willow remained silent, the head of the coven added, “I will tell you what I told Rupert. I’ll take care of any blame that Buffy tries to lay at your door.”

“I hope so,” Willow replied dubiously. “You haven’t seen Buffy when one of her boyfriends gets hurt.”

“I think she’ll understand when I show her the evidence.” Miriam paused. “I have to go. I wanted to give you fair warning. I imagine that Spike will be calling her soon.”

“I’ll keep an ear out.” Willow hung up the phone and felt Oz’s hands on her shoulders, rubbing in a soothing pattern. “Thanks.”

“Bad news?”

“You know that thing I told you about?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s happening.”

He squeezed hard in a wordless gesture of reassurance.

“I don’t know how I’m going to do it. Zoë and Arnold are pretty much ready to go back into the field.”

“There’s a new Slayer,” Oz said. “Giles called while you were out.”

Since Willow had just returned from the market and had to rush to answer the phone, she could understand why she was only hearing about it now. “Where is she?”

“Chile.” Oz went back to kneading her tense muscles. “You could send Buffy and Zoë.”

“That’s assuming I can manage to tear Zoë and Arnold apart.” Willow was quiet for a moment. “Maybe it would be for the best, though. It might be easier.”

“It’s up to you.”

Willow leaned back against him. “I’ll wait to see if Buffy agrees. If she does go, Miriam’s request would be a moot point.”

~~~~~

“I’d like to go,” Zoë said quietly into the silence that followed Willow’s announcement of a new Slayer. “It’s part of my job, no offense, Buffy,” she added, looking at the other woman.

Buffy held up her hands. “No offense taken. I can stick around here until you get back.”

“That means there should be no problem with me going as well,” Arnold stated.

Zoë saw the look that Willow sent Oz’s direction, a mixture of amusement and alarm, and to her surprise, he was the one to speak up. “Maybe Buffy should go instead,” he suggested.

“I think that’s a good idea,” Willow announced, jumping in before anyone else spoke—whether in protest or agreement. “You might need a Slayer.”

Rhoda cleared her throat. “Then maybe it should be me. I mean, Buffy’s getting ready to head back to England, right?”

Willow shook her head. “We need you here, Rhoda. Buffy _is_ leaving, which means that you’re going to be doing a lot of the training. It’s probably better for you to stay.”

Zoë thought about arguing, since the logic didn’t really hold up. Because Rhoda was one of those who would be training the new Slayer, it might be a better idea for her to help retrieve the girl to begin building a rapport. Something held her back, though. Something in the way Willow shifted uncomfortably, and Oz squeezed her shoulder in support.

“I wouldn’t mind going,” Buffy said. “It would be nice to see a little more of the continent before I head back.”

Willow grinned broadly, and Zoë knew she wasn’t mistaking the relief on her face. She had come to know Willow very well, and she knew that the other woman was hiding something. “Great! It shouldn’t take you more than a few days to find her and bring her back.”

“That’s assuming we get there in time,” Zoë murmured, but so quietly that only Arnold heard her. His hand covered hers where it rested on her leg. “We can leave in the morning,” she said loudly enough for everyone to hear.

Her curiosity demanded satisfaction, however, and she waited for the others to drift out of the room, leaving only Arnold, Oz, and Willow. “Willow? May I speak with you?”

The men took the hint gracefully, and both left the room, discussing something to do with repairs to the kitchen sink.

Willow’s smile appeared forced. “What’s up?”

“I’d like to know why you were so anxious to send Buffy to Chile.” Zoë didn’t see the point in mincing words. “You and I both know that Rhoda would have been the logical choice.”

Willow’s eyes widened. “I don’t—”

“Don’t tell me that you don’t know what I’m talking about.” Zoë kept her voice low. “There’s nothing stopping Buffy from returning to England tomorrow, except this trip to Chile.”

The other woman’s eyes closed briefly. “Do you think that Buffy noticed?” she asked quietly.

“No. She accepted your explanation.”

“Then let’s leave it there.”

“Willow—”

“Miriam asked me to do something for her,” Willow admitted. “And that’s what it’s about. I don’t want you involved.”

“I am involved!” Zoë argued. “I’m the one who’s going to be with her in Chile.”

“This isn’t about Chile, or that Slayer,” Willow replied steadily. “Trust me, you don’t want any part of this.”

Zoë subsided, shaking her head. She disliked secrets, preferring the truth.

“Don’t tell her about this, please.”

Zoë couldn’t read Willow’s expression, but she thought there was fear and reluctance in her eyes. She had the impression that whatever Miriam had asked the witch to do, it wasn’t sitting easily with Willow. Zoë knew that she could keep her secret and therefore ease the burden.

“Tell her about what?”

~~~~~

“Buffy, you have a phone call.”

Rute stood in the doorway of the room she’d been using, and Buffy glanced up from her packing. “Who is it?”

“Spike?” She sounded uncertain, as though she didn’t quite think she had the name right.

“I’ll take it.” She hurried to get the phone, anxious to hear his voice. It had been a few days since they’d spoken, and while she believed that she would know if anything happened to him, Buffy had still been worried.

“Hello?”

“Buffy.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “How are things there?”

“Good, fine. There’s a new Slayer in Chile, and I leave tomorrow morning. It’s a good thing you called when you did.” Buffy clutched the phone. “How are you?”

“In one piece.”

“What about Xander and the others?” Buffy asked. “Giles emailed Willow to let her know that he came out okay, but he said that you guys would probably be busy cleaning up for a while.”

“Yeah, about that…” Spike trailed off. “I’m actually on a layover in Amsterdam.”

Her heart sank; she could tell from his tone that it wasn’t good news, that there was more to it than the fact that he was heading back to England already. “You’re going back to Bath already? Is everything okay there?”

“It’s not the Council that needs me, luv. It’s Wes an’ Faith—an’ I suppose Angel, but I’m not doin’ this for him.”

Buffy swallowed. “You’re going to L.A.” Her voice was flat. This was what she’d been afraid of.

“Looks like things are getting tense there, an’ they need the extra help. I’m all Giles has to send right now.” He sounded apologetic, and there was no reason for that. Buffy knew that they both had duties to the Council and to the world at large.

“No, you have to go. I get that. I’ll join you as soon as I can. When I get back with this Slayer, I’ll leave immediately.”

There was a moment’s hesitation, and then Spike replied, “You do that, luv. It’ll be good to see you.”

“What is it, Spike?”

“Nothin’ I know for sure, an’ therefore nothin’ worth worrying about.” His words failed to reassure her. “I love you, Buffy.”

He was going to say goodbye, and there was a sense of finality in his words. Before she’d left for Brazil, she had been the one to feel as though they were risking it all; Spike had comforted her then, but she knew he felt the same way now.

She could hear it in his voice.

There was nothing she could say, however, nothing she could do, short of forbidding him to go to L.A., or jumping on a plane and going herself. If she did either of those things, however, and someone ended up dying, Buffy would never be able to forgive herself.

“I love you, too, Spike. Always.”

Buffy just wished that love was enough to keep him safe.

~~~~~

Arnold hated that he hadn’t been able to go with Zoë. Not that he’d been able to keep her safe last time, but at least he would have known. The area of the country where the Slayer had been located was remote, making it likely that Zoë and Buffy would be able to convince the girl to come with them, but impossible to communicate.

It had been four days. To Arnold, it felt like a lifetime.

“She’s with Buffy, you know,” Willow said, coming up behind him. “Buffy has a habit of getting people out of trouble.”

“And if she doesn’t this time?” Arnold looked over at her. “I know that you understand what it’s like to lose a loved one. I’ve lost too many.”

“We all have at this point, and it’s likely that we’ll lose more.” Willow cleared her throat. “If I told you that there was big trouble coming, and that we might have to send some of the Slayers to deal with it, who would you recommend?”

Arnold frowned. That sort of reticence was unlike Willow, and he didn’t like what it said. “I would keep Rhoda here, simply because we need a strong, experienced Slayer to stay in the region. But Rute, Teresa, and Ximena are all ready, as is Linda. Matilde needs some time yet, and Roberta just arrived.”

Willow nodded. “That’s what I was thinking as well.”

“What sort of thing are we talking about, Willow?”

“End of the world thing,” she said vaguely. “You know.”

“I don’t.”

“Like last time, in Sunnydale, only worse. We’re going to need a lot of Slayers, and we lost a few in Africa, so we’re going to have to send anybody we can.”

Arnold put a brotherly hand on her shoulder. “We’ll pull through this. You’ve seen the Slayers fight, and they have every reason in the world to win.”

“I just hope that every reason in the world is enough.”

Arnold thought that she might have said more, but the telephone rang, and she turned back inside to answer it. He could just hear her voice. “No, Spike, she’s not here, and there’s no way for me to get in touch with her…I’ll pass along the message. … When?... Okay. Be careful.”

“Is that what you were talking about?” Arnold asked when she rejoined him. When she nodded, he fixed her with a sharp look. “What about Buffy? Won’t she want to know?”

“Yes.”

Arnold frowned. He refused to believe that Willow couldn’t get in touch with her if she wanted, distance or no distance. He had some idea of how powerful she was. “Aren’t you going to try to reach her?”

“No. It wouldn’t do any good. By the time she got back here, it would be too late.”

Willow’s expression was sorrowful, and Arnold felt the first stirrings of alarm. “Willow, what is it?”

“Spike called me because he knew that would be his last opportunity.”

He suddenly recalled that both Willow and Oz had been very insistent on Buffy going to Chile, and he swallowed. “You knew.”

“Miriam knew.”

Arnold was acquainted with the head of the coven, and he knew that her abilities were close to legendary. “She knew that Buffy would die if she went, didn’t she?”

Willow nodded, her face crumpling. “And Spike, too. But this—”

Arnold pulled her close in a friendly hug, knowing exactly what she was trying to say but couldn’t. This action on her part felt like a betrayal, and that’s exactly what it was. He had no doubt that Buffy would agree, because he’d feel the same in her shoes.

~~~~~

Buffy was feeling good when they arrived back in Rio. Not only had they managed to rescue the Slayer from a couple of vampires intent on killing her, but they had also killed the band of demons that had nearly taken over the village.

This was the part of being a Slayer that she loved, knowing that she’d made a difference in someone’s life. Someone was alive because of what she’d done. It didn’t happen often enough.

“Hey.” Willow was pale when she greeted the three of them at the door, but she managed a smile for the new Slayer, Agata. “Welcome, and come in,” she said in accented Spanish.

Agata offered a shy smile and slipped inside.

Zoë looked from Willow to Buffy and back again, then offered to show the girl around, leaving the two of them alone.

“I thought you were going to be back sooner,” Willow said, leading Buffy into the small study.

Buffy shrugged. “There was some demon trouble. You know how it is. Evil never sleeps.” She took a closer look at her friend. “What is it, Will? You don’t look so great.”

“Giles just called. Things in L.A. aren’t going so well.”

She froze in the act of sitting down on the couch. “How bad?”

“We haven’t heard anything from Faith or the others.”

“Spike?”

“No one knows. He called a couple of days ago. He said to tell you that he called, and that he loved you.”

Spike’s message hit her like a fist. It sounded way too much like he thought he wasn’t coming back. “Who else is going?”

Willow took a deep breath. “Miriam and Giles are getting ready to leave for L.A. with as many Slayers as they can take. Giles is leaving Dawn in charge in Bath. Xander’s going to send Vi and Audra, but it’s going to take them longer to get there. They’re about the only ones he can afford to let go right now.”

“Kennedy?” Buffy asked, recalling that she was at least in the country.

“Already on her way, if she isn’t there already.”

“When do we leave?”

“In a couple of hours. I’m sorry, but—”

“I can sleep on the plane, and I’m pretty much packed,” Buffy replied. “I’ll deal.” Something hit her just then. Willow had really wanted her to accompany Zoë. “You knew, didn’t you?”

The guilty expression on Willow’s face would have been enough to confirm her fears, but the witch nodded. “I knew that it was going to get bad.”

Buffy rose, feeling her anger, hot and ready. “What exactly did you know, Will?”

“I knew that if you and Spike were both there, you’d both be killed. This was the only way.”

With a sinking feeling, Buffy realized that meant that Willow had made certain that she wasn’t aware of how dire the situation in L.A. was before leaving for Chile. “What if I’d made it back yesterday?” Buffy demanded. “Or two days ago? We would have been back a lot earlier if it wasn’t for those stupid demons.”

“I don’t know,” Willow admitted. “Miriam made me promise to delay you, but I don’t know what I would have done.”

Buffy swore creatively. “How the hell does she know? What gives her the right to make decisions for us? Spike and I have dealt with apocalypses before! We might have been just fine.”

“The bowl doesn’t lie, Buffy. You know that. You were one of the ones to retrieve it.” A fat tear rolled down Willow’s cheek. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to, but it wasn’t just you. The bowl showed the whole world being sucked into hell if you two were there.”

Then, whispering, she added, “I had no choice.”

Buffy believed her. At least she believed that _Willow_ believed that she had no choice, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t be having words with Giles and Miriam.

“I’m going to finish packing,” she announced, offering no words of absolution. She would forgive if and when she knew that Spike was going to be okay.


	33. New Council Headquarters, Bath, England

**“…We’re heading your direction tomorrow. We’ll be there with all the forces we can muster…” ~Excerpt from an email from Rupert Giles to Wesley Wyndam-Pryce**

“I’m going.” Dawn was beginning to feel as though she was a broken record, and as though she would never manage to get out of Bath. She was trapped here just as surely as she’d been trapped in Sunnydale.

“You can’t,” Giles repeated for the third time. “I’m sorry, Dawn.”

“You’re going to need me!” she exclaimed. “Miriam said that my blood was going to be needed to close the portal.”

“And it will be,” Miriam assured her. “But we’re bringing your blood with us, and only your blood. There’s a ritual—”

Dawn jumped to her feet. “No! Spike is there, and my sister’s going to be there as well. I was in Sunnydale; you know I can fight.”

Giles sighed. “I’m leaving you in charge here, Dawn.”

She sat abruptly. “What?”

“I’m leaving you and Oliver in charge. Someone is going to need to look after the little ones.” Giles met her eyes. “I realize how much I’m asking of you, Dawn, but there is no one else. Not to sound callous, but it’s a consequence of your competence.”

She glared at him. “That’s not fair.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“When are you leaving?”

“In the morning,” Miriam replied. “We can do the ritual tonight. It’s fairly simple and straightforward.”

“I’m sure Oliver would be happy to help you.” Giles’ tone held no hint that he knew how close she and Oliver were. “I can’t ask him to accompany us for obvious reasons.”

Dawn frowned. “Isn’t there anything you can do for him, Giles?”

“There may be something that we can do when we return.” Miriam took a deep breath. “I think it might be best if we finish the ritual now. I have some packing to do yet.”

Dawn knew that was the only answer she was going to get for now, and that she would have to be satisfied. “Whenever you want.”

While she would much prefer being the one to go to Los Angeles, she appreciated the trust that Giles was demonstrating. She still hated being left behind, but at least she knew it was for a good reason.

~~~~~

“Do you think I’m doing the right thing?” Giles asked as he unbuttoned his shirt.

Miriam looked up from her suitcase as she took stock of the contents. “Hmm?”

“Do you think I’m doing the right thing?”

“Are you asking because you want my opinion, or because you want my reassurance?”

“Perhaps a bit of both,” he admitted. Giles sat on the edge of the bed, dressed only in his undershirt and boxer shorts. “I know that Dawn will do a fine job here, but…”

“But you’re wondering if we should be going.” When he nodded, she continued, “I do believe that we should go. Buffy is going to need you, I think, and I’ll need to offer explanations. And I will be needed to help close the rift.”

Giles sighed. “I wish you had told me this before.”

“What would you have done?” she asked, closing the suitcase. “If I had told you what was to come, would you have done anything differently?”

“I might have.”

“And if I told you that what I had seen indicated that if you had we would have been in worse trouble?” Miriam’s back was towards him. “The trouble with having knowledge of the future is that you know too much. You know who will live, and who will die. You know that others will blame you for withholding information, and that you will not be forgiven.”

“Who said that I wouldn’t forgive you?” Giles asked. “Or that I held it against you? I’ve had enough dealings with the coven and you over the years to know that you had the best of intentions. The same is unlikely to be said for Buffy. She has a tendency to hold a grudge.”

“I understand that.”

“But that doesn’t change anything.” Giles rose to place his hands on her shoulders. “Not between us.”

“Then you trust me.” It was a statement, rather than a question, and Giles didn’t answer in words.

Her lips were soft and demanding under his, and she gripped him with an unexpected strength. They had been dancing around this for weeks now, if not months, and Giles was ready to end the dance.

_This_ part of the dance, anyway. There was so much more to come.

~~~~~

Oliver watched out the window as Dawn pulled up in one of the Council vehicles. She had been one of those to drive to the train station, which would then take the group to the airport.

He wasn’t disappointed that she wasn’t going, but he knew that she was, and Oliver could understand why. Her sister and Spike were in danger, and she was stuck in Bath, holding down the fort, with the few Slayers left.

Giles had taken every Slayer age fifteen or over, leaving three children behind—Rose, Nora, and Harry. All of the Watchers had been older; the very few who had been under age fifteen had been taken home by parents or other relatives. Those who had insisted on taking their kids home had lost relatives when the old headquarters had been destroyed.

Oliver had no doubt that he and Dawn were more than capable of taking care of the kids, and he was incredibly grateful that Talia had been of age to go. She would not have been a joy to have around.

Dawn disappeared from his field of vision, and Oliver swung himself around towards the front entrance. “Dawn?”

“Yeah.” She dropped her purse on the floor by the door and walked straight into his arms.

Oliver put his arms around her as best as he could while still leaning on his crutches. “Let’s sit,” he murmured in her ear.

“Where are the kids?”

“I suspended lessons for the day,” Oliver replied. “I doubt we’d get anything done.”

He led her back into the study, and they both sat on the couch, leaning against one another. It was a relief to ditch his crutches and just be able to hold her as she clung to him. It was a relief to feel as though he wasn’t a burden or a hindrance, but a help.

“This sucks.” She muttered the words into his shirt, and Oliver stroked her back.

“I know. I’m sorry you couldn’t go.”

“Giles was right. I hate it, but he was right.” Dawn shifted so that she was lying against him, and he tugged her close. “Somebody has to stay here. Buffy would hate it if I was in L.A., and she’d just worry.”

“I didn’t think you’d care about that,” Oliver replied.

Dawn sighed. “I don’t, but in this case, she’s going to need every warm body.”

“Let me just say that your body is quite warm.” It was the boldest pass he’d made to date, and Dawn smirked at him. “I want you to be honest with me.”

Dawn closed her eyes. “The last time we went into a battle like this, Buffy left me with Xander, in a pretty safe place. This time, there is no safe place, Oliver. I have enough information to know that. She’s freaked out enough about Spike; she doesn’t need the extra worry.”

“What do you think is going to happen?”

“I don’t know.”

Oliver thought she sounded lost, and he pulled her closer. “I’m sorry, Dawn.”

“Don’t be. Please don’t be.” She twisted so that she was facing him. “I’m not even supposed to exist, Oliver. I was a big, green ball of energy that was never supposed to be a person.”

“They did a really good job, you know.”

“Thanks.”

Her smile was an invitation that Oliver couldn’t resist, and he kissed her. Dawn’s reaction was to wrap herself around him, swinging her leg over him so that she was straddling his lap. He pulled her closer and thanked his lucky stars.

~~~~~

“Our flight is scheduled to be on time into LAX,” Giles said as he took a seat next to Miriam. “From the news reports I’ve seen, it appears as though there’s several square miles that have been declared off limits by the National Guard.”

“Have you been able to get through to Wesley or any of the others?”

He shook his head. “No. Neither Wesley nor Faith are answering their mobile phones, although that may be because service has been interrupted. It’s impossible to say. What have you heard from the London group?”

“It’s working as planned,” Miriam confirmed. “They’re sending a group on to Bath, mostly consisting of the aged and children. The others have elected to stay and fight.”

Giles shook his head. “I had no idea our spell would wreak this sort of havoc.”

“Why would you think it was the spell activating the Slayers?” Miriam asked. “I do not believe that it’s the sole cause. There are too many other factors to consider.”

Giles opened his mouth to respond, but he was interrupted by the ringing of his mobile. “This is Giles.”

“Rupert, it’s Wesley.”

“Thank God,” Giles breathed. “What’s been going on?”

“I don’t have time,” Wesley replied, his voice crackling. “The phones here are spotty at best. We’ve been trying to get through for the last twenty-four hours.”

“I’m coming,” Giles said quickly, wanting to assure him that help was on the way. “I have every Slayer possible, and Kennedy—”

“They’re here. They managed to find their way without too much trouble. I doubt that you’ll have the same luck, however. The army has arrived, and they’ve sealed off the section we’re in.”

“Let me deal with them,” Giles responded. “What do you need?”

“What don’t we need?” Wesley asked rhetorically. “They opened a portal, Giles. The demons have stopped pouring through; it’s down to a steady trickle now. We need to get it closed off.”

“The coven members and Willow should be able to help with that. What else? Casualties?”

“I don’t know.” His voice was hoarse. “I—Faith and I are in one piece, as are most of our Slayers, aside from a few minor injuries. One of the girls who came with Kennedy was killed; I don’t remember her name.”

“That’s fine.” Giles took a deep breath. “And Spike?”

“That’s one of the things I don’t know.” There was some sort of commotion in the background, and Wesley said, “I have to go. I know that we lost Angel, and Spike’s missing, along with one other. If you can get your friends at the coven to find out where he is, we might be able to muster a rescue party.”

“Wesley—”

“I have to go.”

The phone went dead in Giles’ hand, and he flipped it close with a snap.

“What is it?” Miriam asked softly.

“Angel is gone,” Giles murmured, unsure of how he felt about that. “And Spike is missing. I don’t know much else.” He met her eyes. “We need to get there, Miriam.”

“I would teleport us both, but we won’t have the power to close the portal then, or to do what else needs to be done.” Her hand rubbed soothing circles on his back. “We will be in time, Rupert.”

“I don’t know how you can be so certain,” he said fiercely.

“Because we must be.” Miriam’s expression was as grim as he’d seen it. “There is no other choice.”

~~~~~

Talia was having a hard time standing still as they all waited for Giles to tell them what the next step was going to be. She’d been grateful that she had been deemed old enough to go, and that Giles had needed Slayers too badly to leave many behind.

Fighting—really fighting, and not just sparring—was the only way to prove yourself as a Slayer. Talia knew that she still had a lot to prove.

“Listen to me,” Giles said as they gathered around him in the airport. “The area of Los Angeles that we need to reach has been closed off. Miriam and I are going to see what we can do about that. Meanwhile, you should try to get something to eat and get some rest if you can.”

“In an airport?” Jules asked dubiously.

“You might be grateful for it being in an airport shortly,” Miriam said tartly. “Where we’re going, sleep in a safe place is likely going to be difficult to come by.”

Talia was really glad that she hadn’t asked that question, because it had been running through her mind. Not that she usually had any trouble falling asleep; she’d been able to nap in her classes, even when the desks were uncomfortable.

She watched as Giles and Miriam hurried off, speaking between themselves in hushed tones. The other coven members asked around to make sure that everyone had enough money changed to get a meal, then went to eat themselves.

Talia started to wander around the airport. She’d slept on the plane, and wasn’t feeling tired. Being in a new country, ready to go fight demons, was too exciting.

“Talia?”

She turned and saw Buffy heading towards her. “Buffy? When did you get in?”

“Just now. There were some flight delays. Where’s Giles?”

Talia shrugged. “I don’t know. He said something about the army closing off a part of the city, and that he’d have to figure out how we’re supposed to get in.”

“And the others?”

“Eating and sleeping if they can. I couldn’t.” Talia looked beyond her to see a red-haired woman with a short, red-haired man at her side, followed closely by four girls who had to be Slayers. “What are you going to do?”

“Kick ass,” Buffy replied. “It’s what we do.” She turned to the redhead. “Giles and Miriam are somewhere around here, making arrangements. I want to get there as soon as possible.”

“We could always rent a car and get as close as we can,” the woman replied. “You could sneak in the rest of the way.”

“Buffy!” Giles came hurrying up to her. “I thought you were supposed to be here hours ago.”

“Our flight was delayed,” Buffy replied coldly. “What did you find out?”

“Buffy, I—”

“I don’t want to talk about that now. What did you find out?”

“Not much from here. We’re going to have to get a motel room and make a few more calls,” Giles replied, apparently deciding that it wasn’t a good idea to argue with her at the moment. Talia could understand why; Buffy was a little scary when she was brassed off.

And she was definitely mad.

“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go.”

Talia watched as the others trailed in Buffy’s wake as she sailed off, and she wondered what Buffy knew to have her so angry. Although she was worried about Spike, too, she knew that he was going to be okay.

After all, this was _Spike_.


	34. Los Angeles, California

**“Made it to LA. Spike still MIA.” ~Text message from Buffy Summers to Dawn Summers and Xander Harris**

Willow watched Buffy pace nervously. They were still waiting for Giles and Miriam to return to let them know whether they would be able to walk into the battle zone, or if they would need to find a sneakier way in.

Oz patted her hand, and Willow shot him a grateful look. She hadn’t asked him to come; he’d simply announced that he had no intention of letting her go by herself. Zoë and Arnold would be fine with the youngest girls, particularly with Rhoda to help. Teresa, Rute, Linda, and Ximena had all been judged capable enough to accompany them.

“Buffy—”

“Don’t. We’re not going to talk about it. Spike will be fine.”

Willow exchanged another look with Oz and fell silent, deciding that discretion was the better part of valor in this case.

Giles entered the hotel room that they had booked. “We’ll have an escort in.”

“What kind of escort?” Buffy stopped pacing for the first time since he’d left. “What did you find out?”

“It was what Miriam found out,” he corrected her. “The army has blocked off several square miles, which seem to be the hardest hit, but they’ve had to pull back even farther as more demons have come through. They’re simply not equipped to fight that many demons under those circumstances.”

Buffy shrugged impatiently. “So? What does that mean for us?”

“It means that Miriam was able to plant the suggestion that we’re just the ones to deal with it so that they don’t have to risk more men.”

“Good. Let’s go.” Buffy reached for her bag.

“Wait. Buffy, we need to talk, to have a plan.”

“Did you send Spike in with a plan?” Buffy demanded.

“Buffy—”

“No! You sent him on a suicide mission, and you expect me to forgive you.”

“It wasn’t a suicide mission.”

Willow winced as soon as the words left Giles’ mouth; he didn’t sound too certain of that, and Buffy was sure to notice.

When Buffy opened her mouth to argue again, Willow interrupted. “We don’t have time for this, Buffy. Every minute we stand here arguing increases the chance that more people are going to die.”

Buffy took a deep, audible breath. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right.”

There was a collective sigh of relief from those in the room as the tension decreased several notches. “They’re here,” Miriam announced, sticking her head through the door.

It was beyond strange to be riding on a troop transport. Their driver was silent, not even trying to make conversation, or determine why he was taking such an odd assortment of people into an area where the army was hesitant to send troops.

Willow sat silently, her hand grasping Oz’s tightly. Buffy sat across from her, her lips pressed into a tight, thin line.

“This is as far as I can take you.”

The soldier’s voice broke into the tense silence as the truck stopped with a shudder and squeal of brakes. The Slayers hopped off the back of the truck one by one, each carrying a pack that had weapons, food, and water. No one knew how long they’d be behind the lines, or what they would find when they arrived.

~~~~~

What Buffy felt was nothing less than sheer panic—which was why she was as pissed as hell. Buffy hated being scared; it was a lot easier to be angry at the people who had made it impossible for her to get there on time.

She was _the_ Slayer, after all. She was supposed to be on the scene when there was an apocalypse. Buffy was supposed to be facing it alongside Spike.

They hiked through empty streets that had the air of a set from a disaster movie. The daylight meant that the vampires weren’t out, but she was on alert for demons.

One of the Slayers on the rearguard, one of Willow’s, gave a shout of surprise. Buffy’s sword was in hand in half a second, and she sprinted towards the large demon the other Slayer was just barely managing to hold off.

There were too many Slayers, she thought a moment later. The demon was dead, and she hadn’t even gotten a hit in. What Buffy really wanted was a good fight.

Another roar told her that she might get the action she wanted, and she turned to face the oncoming horde.

Okay, six demons probably couldn’t be considered a horde, but Buffy wasn’t sure what the appropriate term was under the circumstances.

There were still too many Slayers, Buffy thought. No one knew how to work together as a team. The demons were splitting them into smaller groups, and she knew how the story was going to end.

Unless someone took charge, and Buffy realized that was her job. It was always going to be her.

“Talia! Fall back!”

The girl did as she was ordered, and two of the other Slayers that had traveled from England followed Talia’s lead, intuiting what Buffy was trying to do. They grouped together, just as they had practiced in the training sessions, and the Slayers from Brazil began to do the same, seeing the wisdom in the tactic.

Oz and Giles were trying to protect Miriam and Willow, who had clasped hands, apparently ready to cast a spell, although Buffy wasn’t sure what they were planning. The other Slayers and Watchers they had brought along were forming similar groups, staying close together and working in teams, which gave Buffy the chance to dive into the center of the group of demons.

She heard Giles shout at her, but the demons scattered, which was exactly what she’d been planning. Buffy engaged one, and by the time it was lying dead on the ground, the others were dead and no one was even breathing hard.

“Good job,” Buffy said. “Let’s go.”

“Buffy?”

The voice was familiar, and she recognized it immediately. “Faith!”

The other woman jogged down the street towards her, and they stood, staring at one another, for a moment. If things had been different between them, if they had ever been close, Buffy might have hugged her.

But Faith wasn’t the hugging type, and so Buffy settled for asking how she was.

“In one piece,” Faith replied. “Which is more than some can say. Come on. I’ll take you to where we’re holed up.”

“Have you seen Spike?” Buffy asked, the questioning tumbling from her lips before she could think better of it. There were other people, of course, other people who would need their help.

Faith hesitated perceptibly before shaking her head. “No. Not since the big fight.”

“Which big fight was that?” Buffy was keeping an eye out for another attack as she followed Faith, and glancing behind her, she could see that the others were also on the alert.

Faith shook her head. “We can talk about it once we get somewhere safe. The portal isn’t completely closed yet, and weird shit keeps popping out.”

Buffy bit back her next question and reminded herself that saving the world had to be her top priority.

~~~~~

Faith had seen Buffy’s reticence, and she knew the reason for it. She didn’t do hugs, but there had been a moment there when she might have. In truth, she was feeling the need for a hug, but she’d get her jollies from Wesley.

He was really good at that, among other things.

They walked into the abandoned office building. Faith would have preferred to remain at the hotel, but it was too close to the fissure. Gunn and Fred were safe in a hospital outside of L.A. with Abby. Gunn was recovering from wounds sustained when he went after his target, and Fred had wanted to stay with him. She’d said herself that she probably wouldn’t be of much help.

Faith and Wesley had agreed that no one would stay if they weren’t fit to fight. Abby had begged and pleaded to stay, but they had sent her with Fred and Gunn. She would be safe with them.

It was a relief to have reinforcements, a huge relief to have Buffy there. Just like old times.

“In here.”

Faith showed them inside the building, then directed them towards the stairs. “We went up a few flights, thought that would be safer.”

“What about Spike?” Buffy asked.

“Wesley knows a little more than I do.” Faith felt for the other girl. She’d Spike and Buffy together, and she knew that they were tight. Faith already knew that losing Wes would hurt, more than she wanted it to, more than she wanted to risk.

Wesley was in the CEO’s office, talking to the Slayers, his left arm wrapped in bandages from wrist to elbow. Faith knew how painful the burn had to be, but he showed no sign of discomfort.

He glanced up as they came through the door. “Buffy, it’s good to see you again.”

“You, too. Where’s Spike?”

Wesley’s expression was sympathetic. “I don’t know, Buffy. He completed his mission and met us outside the hotel as planned. At that point the fissure opened up. There was no way we could keep track of everyone in the chaos.”

“He’s gone?”

“We don’t know,” Wesley repeated gently. “There’s no way to tell.”

Faith saw the look that Buffy gave Miriam. “You can find out if he’s still alive.”

“He’s alive.” Miriam reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, round crystal, smooth as glass and with a faint point of light glowing in the center. “As long as he’s alive, you will see that light,” the head of the coven told her. “Here.” She placed the crystal in Buffy’s hand and closed her fingers over it.

Buffy took an audible breath and tucked the crystal into her front pocket. “Okay. Okay.” She closed her eyes, clearly gathering herself. “What are we looking at?”

“We have an unknown number of demons here in Los Angeles that have come through the portal,” Wesley began, taking a seat on the edge of the desk. “One of those demons bore an uncanny resemblance to a dragon, which is how I got this.” He raised his bandaged arm.

“And Angel?”

“He pushed Wes out of the way, and took the brunt of the dragon fire.” Faith didn’t think she would soon forget how Angel had shoved Wesley out of the way of the dragon fire and disappeared in a cloud of dust.

Buffy swallowed audibly. “Right.” She took a deep breath. “So, we need to close the portal and kill as many demons as possible.”

“In a nutshell, yes.” Wesley forced a smile. “Not such a big deal, really.”

Faith snorted a laugh. “Except for the part where we need to close down that fissure.”

“That will be done easily enough,” Miriam said. “Willow and I, and the others, have the means. We’ll need to be close, and we’ll need protection while we take care of it.”

“I think that can be done,” Giles said. “Where is this fissure?”

“Near the hotel,” Wesley replied. “It opened just as we were regrouping.”

Buffy held up a hand to stop him from continuing. “Regrouping from what? I haven’t gotten a clear picture on what you were trying to do yet.”

Wesley cleared his throat. “A group known as the Black Thorn is intimately connected with the Senior Partners, and we received information leading us to believe that they were the ones attempting to use the current imbalance to unleash the final apocalypse.”

“Turns out that they’d already set it in motion, but without them around to control the demon horde, it was pretty much chaos.” Faith leaned against the wall, arms crossed over her chest. “We lost Angel pretty much right away. Gunn was hurt killing his man, and Lorne never returned from his mission. We think we lost Connor, too. We haven’t seen him since the fissure first opened.”

“Who’s Connor?”

The question came from Buffy, and Faith supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised that the other Slayer hadn’t known—although she suspected that it wasn’t just because of the memory spell. “Angel’s son,” Faith explained briefly. “And that’s a long story on its own.”

Giles cleared his throat. “I would recommend that we all catch a few hours of sleep before we attempt anything. I know that most of us haven’t slept, and I imagine it’s been worse for you.”

Faith could see that he was looking at Wesley, respecting the fact that Wes was the one in charge in L.A. Of course, then Wes turned to her, one eyebrow lifted. “What would you suggest, Faith?”

She wanted it closed. She wanted this whole thing done and over with, but she also knew that Giles was right. They were all tired, and they’d little sleep. “Yeah. Let’s catch a few hours, then start fresh.”

It might be one of the few chances that they would have.

~~~~~

Buffy couldn’t sleep; she kept thinking of the fact that Spike was out there somewhere, still alive, but missing. She wanted to search for him, and that’s all she wanted to do. Pulling the crystal out of her pocket, Buffy stared at the tiny point of light in the center, as though it would reveal Spike’s location.

“Buffy?”

She stiffened at the sound of Miriam’s voice, knowing that she had been right about the coven. They _had_ been keeping secrets—big ones—and Miriam had caused two of the people she trusted most to keep those secrets for her. “What do you want? Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“I wanted to show you something.”

Buffy turned from the window in the empty office reluctantly, raising her eyebrows when she saw the silver bowl in Miriam’s arms. “Where did you get the water?” she asked, watching as it splashed over the sides when the witch put it down on the floor.

“It’s not very difficult to call water,” was her reply. “You shouldn’t blame Rupert or Willow. If anyone deserves your anger, it’s me.”

Buffy snorted. “Well, you’ve got that.”

“But I wanted to show you why. If you still cannot forgive me, I will understand.”

She stared at the bowl. The water had gone completely still, even though Buffy knew the surface shouldn’t be that smooth so soon after being moved around. For a moment, she thought about refusing, insisting that she didn’t need to know.

But she did.

“Fine.” Buffy took the three steps necessary and sank down onto the floor across from Miriam, the bowl between them. “What do I do?”

“Just look. I think you’ll see what you need to see.”

Buffy swallowed, then did as Miriam had directed. At first, she saw nothing but her own reflection, and she started to say just that when a scene began to form. Moving closer, Buffy could make out the sight of a battle taking place in an alley. Rain was falling hard and fast, and the scene was illuminated only by the blue light coming from a rift in the sky.

Wesley and Faith were there, as was Angel and the rest of his gang. She saw Spike fighting off a large demon—and then she saw herself. The Buffy in the bowl was suddenly distracted by Spike’s howl of pain, and she killed the demon she’d been fighting and began to make her way across the alley to his side.

Buffy could see it coming, and from the expression on that Spike’s face, he could too, as a demon thrust its claws through the other Buffy’s body, then sunk its fangs into her neck.

Spike’s expression was horrified, and he started towards her. The distraction proved to be fatal, however, as a sword-wielding demon beheaded him, and he disappeared in a cloud of dust.

Buffy watched, tears streaming down her face, as the others fell one by one, until they were all dead, and the rift opened wider and wider.

The picture dissolved then, but Buffy didn’t need to see more. She knew what came next.

“This is why you could not be here.”

Buffy stared at Miriam angrily. “And you couldn’t have told me? Told us? We would have done the right thing.”

“Spike knew,” Miriam said gently. “But tell me. Would you really have stayed away, or would you have insisted that it would have been different?”

Buffy stared at her reflection—once again all she could see in the bowl. One of her tears fell, causing ripples to spread out. “No. I would have insisted on coming,” she whispered. “Even if—I wouldn’t have wanted him to die alone.”

Miriam took her hand, the crystal still resting in Buffy’s palm, its hopeful point of light still glowing steadily. “This way, he isn’t dead, and neither are you.”

Buffy looked at her. “Can you find him?”

“As soon as we’ve closed the rift, I will try,” Miriam promised. “That’s the only thing I can do.”


	35. New Council Headquarters, Bath, England (Two Weeks Later)

**“…It’s strange here. There are fewer Slayers, but word on the street is that things are starting to calm down. The Brachen and the witches managed to kill the group that was trying to destroy all the half-bloods, and things in South America are downright quiet, which is why Giles has decided that it would be better if they disband the school there and divide the Watchers and Slayers between L.A. and Cleveland with only a few left behind. I just wish that Buffy could come home…” ~Excerpt from the diary of Dawn Summers**

“How is Xander?” Giles asked, seeing the address on the email Dawn was sending.

She shrugged. “It sounds like things are pretty much back to normal there. He’s sending what Slayers he can to L.A., but the school is up and running again, and the Oribi are back to guarding their Hellmouth.”

Giles nodded, sitting down across from her. “Did I mention that you did a wonderful job here?”

“A couple of times.” Dawn forced a smile. “But it’s always nice to hear.” She took a deep breath. “I want to go to Los Angeles, Giles.”

“Have you spoken to Buffy about that?”

She shook her head. “No, but you know what she’s going to say. I need to be there. And don’t tell me that you need me here. You and Miriam are staying, and you can get anybody to do what I’ve been doing.”

When Giles remained silent, Dawn added, “Buffy needs me there, whether she’ll admit it or not.”

Giles sighed. “There’s an envelope in the top right drawer, at the bottom of the stack.”

Dawn raised her eyebrows and rummaged through the pile until she found the item the head Watcher was referring to. Her name was on the front, and Dawn immediately recognized her sister’s handwriting. “No.” Dawn glanced up at Giles, but his eyes were closed.

She tore the envelope open and quickly scanned the missive, then went back to the beginning to read it more slowly.

“_Dear Dawn,_

“I know you’re going to hate me for this, but I’ve made Giles promise not to send you to Los Angeles, no matter how much you beg him to. You’re going to say that I need you, and you’re right—I do. I want you here with me, but I think this is going to be a long mission, and I need to know that you’re safe.

“I’ve lost too many people who are important to me, and we’ve lost far too many Slayers here already. If anything happened to you, I don’t think I would survive it. So, for me, stay in England, or if you really want to go somewhere, help Xander or go to Cleveland. Anywhere but here.

I love you,

Buffy”

Dawn felt tears pricking her eyes. “How bad is it, Giles?”

His face was grim when he replied, “It’s essentially a few square miles of hell.”

“Then why aren’t you there?” Dawn demanded. “Why aren’t we all there?”

“Because Buffy decided that non-combatants would be more of a hindrance than a help, and only Slayers would be welcome.”

Dawn frowned. “Wesley’s still there.”

“Faith backed him up, and—” Giles hesitated before finishing, “Wesley isn’t as important to Buffy, and he’s proven himself several times over.”

“But Watchers—”

“There are no Watchers there, other than Wesley,” Giles said gently. “There’s no need. Buffy was right about that much.”

Dawn set her jaw. “All the more reason for me to go. I’m capable of fighting.”

“Your blood closed the portal, Dawn.”

This was a reminder, not new information. Dawn had heard the entire story, how the Slayers had worked to hold off the demons still coming through the portal, as well as those already present, so that Willow, Miriam, and the other witches could close the rift using the vial of her blood.

It meant that she was still the Key in some sense, that there were things about herself and her abilities that she didn’t yet understand. Still, she didn’t think that should prevent her from going to L.A.

“So?” she demanded. “I can’t be stuck here forever, Giles. You guys are going to have to let me out on my own soon.”

“You are going to be out on your own.” Giles’ expression was sad and wistful. “We lost half of the Cleveland Slayers, including Kennedy. I’m sending you and Oliver to take over.”

Dawn blinked. “Really?”

“Really. I need you there, Dawn.”

She stared at the letter that lay on the desk in front of her, then carefully folded it and placed it back inside the envelope. “Have you talked to Oliver?”

“He’s ready to go, whenever you are. I’m sorry that there was nothing the coven could do to help him.”

Dawn nodded. She had known for a long time that magic couldn’t fix everything.

~~~~~

“How did Dawn take the news?” Miriam asked as Giles entered their bedroom.

Giles sighed. “As well as might be expected. I wish I could send her to Buffy. I think Dawn is right; Buffy is going to need someone.”

“Wesley and Faith are there,” Miriam reminded him, “as is Ellen.”

“She’s busy with Dana.”

“Dana doesn’t need her as much anymore,” she corrected him. “She’s doing quite well, considering.”

“Considering that she can kill demons morning, noon, and night, and be quite content with that?” Giles had been given the chance to see Dana in action, and she had frightened him. He had been honestly grateful that they hadn’t brought her back to Bath with them.

“It’s something of a miracle that Ellen even managed to channel her rage in the appropriate direction.”

“Not that much of a miracle when you consider that she’s your cousin.” Giles touched her cheek and busied himself shuffling papers on the bedside table.

“Have you spoken to Buffy recently?”

“No. Communication is still spotty, even with the satellite phone. According to Wesley’s latest call, they are still regularly besieged.”

Miriam frowned. “Perhaps we should have stayed.”

Giles shook his head. “No, Buffy was right about that. Slayers are some of the very few with even a chance of survival, and we had the children here to think about. We will need to train more Slayers, and girls are still being located.”

She was quiet for a moment, then she asked, “Do you think she’ll eventually forgive you?”

Giles’ smile was bitter. “In truth, no. I have betrayed her trust too many times for that.”

~~~~~

Xander shivered in the cold spring air. Between growing up in southern California and spending the last year in Africa, he wasn’t ready for the cold—even if Giles’ lightweight jacket seemed to indicate that it wasn’t all that chilly.

“It was good of you to come, Xander,” Giles greeted him. “I know you’ve been busy in Pretoria.”

He shrugged. “Corey’s capable of handling things for a week. What about Buffy?”

“She’s not coming.” Giles sighed. “She said that she’s not leaving L.A. until she finds Spike.”

“I’d do the same in her shoes.” Xander felt a stab of sympathy for his friend. “Any word?”

“All the coven can say for certain is that he’s alive, and he’s in another dimension.” Giles shook his head. “The conclusion they seem to have reached is that the Senior Partners took him during the first incursion.”

Xander winced. “That can’t be good for Spike.”

“No, I daresay it isn’t. We’ll talk about what we’re going to do when we get back to headquarters.”

Xander understood why there was a debate. When the Senior Partners had made the push, they had overreached, and the balance had been reinstated. There were still several active Hellmouths, and there would continue to be, but it was doubtful that they would see the push they’d seen recently.

Now, there was the question of who would be stationed where, and how their forces would be apportioned.

Xander knew where he would be, of course. There was no way he was leaving Africa; it was home now, and he was happy there.

Council headquarters was in an old building that felt like an old boarding school—which is essentially what it was. In fact, it felt a lot like Hogwarts, only without the shifting staircases that he’d seen in the movies.

“Cool place you’ve got here, Giles.”

“Thank you. We like it.” Giles led him up to a bedroom. “This is yours. If you don’t mind, we’ll start the meeting in about an hour.”

“No, that’s fine.” Xander used the time to clean up a bit, then unpack a few things. Once that was done, he found he still had half an hour before the meeting was supposed to start. Wincing at the what the next phone bill was sure to be, he dialed the number for Corey’s direct line.

“This is Corey.”

“Hey.”

“Xander! You made it safely?”

“Yeah, I’m at headquarters now, but I had some time before the meeting was supposed to start.”

“It’s good to hear from you.” She paused. “I miss you already.”

“Same here. How are the girls?”

“Good. Nàtali slept with me last night.”

Xander sighed. “Her nightmares are still that bad, huh?”

“Yeah, but she’ll be fine. Kids are resilient.”

He didn’t like to think about the fierce light in her eyes; she had lost some of her innocence, and much of her playful spirit during the time she’d been held by the enemy forces. None of the children held captive had been willing to talk about what had happened, and Xander found that he didn’t want to know.

If he knew, he’d have to resurrect some of the enemy dead just to kill them all over again.

They talked for a few more minutes, and Xander reluctantly bid her farewell, promising to call again when he could.

When he opened the door to his room to try and find the conference room—and maybe something to eat—he found Willow and Oz on the other side. “Will!”

She hugged him tightly. “You’re looking good!” Willow stepped back to get a better view. “Really good,” she added.

Xander knew that she was referring to the twenty-five pounds he’d lost, as well as the tan he’d gained. “Thanks. You, too. How are you, Oz?”

They shook hands. “We’ll show you where we’re meeting,” Oz said.

“And where to get some food?” Xander asked hopefully.

Willow laughed. “I think we can arrange that.”

~~~~~

Willow looked around the table at those present; she couldn’t help but think of those who were missing. Buffy and Faith were in L.A., and Spike was in an unknown dimension. They had lost at least a dozen Slayers in the last two weeks, and they would likely lose more in Los Angeles, given how bad things were there.

They had lost Kennedy and another one of the girls that Faith had trained. The L.A. Slayers were in one piece, however, as were Vi and Audra, and Willow’s girls had made it through as well.

Still, the losses were a heavy burden to bear.

“I think we can begin,” Giles announced. “It’s good to see you all again.”

Xander raised his hand. “I’d like to say that I’m staying in Africa.”

Giles raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

“We’ve got a good thing going there with the Oribi,” Xander said, “and there’s a Hellmouth. I want to stay. That’s home for me now.”

Giles nodded. “I see. Anyone else?”

Willow glanced at Oz, and he nodded. “We’ll go wherever you need us, Giles,” Willow said. “There’s no Hellmouth in Brazil, and the demon activity is way down since the thing in L.A.”

“I’d like you to come back here, then,” Giles said. “We’re going to centralize our teaching centers.” He nodded at Xander. “Save for the areas where there are Hellmouths. We will need to send a few more experienced Slayers to Cleveland, and probably a few more to Pretoria as well. Those too young to be stationed on an active Hellmouth will come here.”

“What about Munich?” Dawn asked.

“Erna assures me that she has it well in hand, but you make a good point, Dawn,” Giles said. “As soon as we have someone ready and willing to go to Germany, we’ll send another to back her up.”

“What about L.A.?” Xander asked. “If it’s that bad, shouldn’t we be sending everyone we can?”

Giles shook his head. “No. Buffy was adamantly against that idea. She claims that too many Slayers will be just as bad as too few, and that only the most experienced should go. I agree with her assessment. Ideally, all Slayers with training and experience will eventually wind up in Los Angeles, but the existing Hellmouths will do for training ground.”

Willow saw the shock on Xander’s face. “How long are we talking here?”

“Months,” Giles admitted. “If not years.” He rose. “I think that takes care of everything. We’ll work out the rest of the details over the next few days.”

Willow stopped Giles before he could leave. “Can I talk to you privately?” She waited until the others had filtered out before she said, “I think you should send me back to Los Angeles, Giles.”

He shook his head. “Willow—”

“Buffy needs me.”

“That’s the same thing Dawn said.”

“And you’re sending her to Cleveland,” Willow replied. “Look, I know Ellen is there, but she’s going to need another witch. Send me and Oz. I owe her that much at least.”

Giles sighed. “She doesn’t blame you, Willow.”

“But she blames you and Miriam still,” she said knowingly.

“I don’t think she will forgive me this time.” His head was bowed, his shoulders slumped. Willow didn’t think she’d ever seen him so defeated.

“If Spike comes back safely—”

“What chance is there of that?” Giles rubbed his eyes. “I’ll send you and Oz, if that’s what you want, Willow. I’m sure you’ll be very useful there.”

Willow stayed behind, staring out the window onto the wide expanse of lawn. She could see several young children playing soccer in the grass—or football, she supposed. In truth, she didn’t want to go back to L.A.; the living conditions were primitive, to say the least, and the despair from the ruined city was almost palpable. Although the army was still there, it was mostly to keep people out, because there were a number of evacuated residents who kept trying to get back in.

And it was their shrieks that could often be heard when they were captured and killed.

She had spoken the truth, however. Willow owed this to Buffy; she had been one of those responsible for the current situation, and the fact that Spike was missing. Perhaps the alternative was worse, but Buffy wasn’t living the alternative.

“Did he agree?”

Willow nodded and felt Oz’s arms come around her from behind. “Thank you for going with me. I wouldn’t want to do this by myself.”

“I can understand why.”

She said nothing more, simply leaned her head back against his shoulder and watched the children play, soaking up the peaceful sight.

It was the last opportunity she would have for a very long time.


End file.
